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junghelioseok · 8 months

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miss taken.

↳ you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ fluff | smut | teacher!au | single parent!au | e2l ◇ 20.3k [1/1]

❛❛ our kids are bitter rivals and the only time we ever meet is when we’re both called to the principal’s office and whatever maybe i think you’re kind of cute but your kid’s a monster and ALSO someone keeps buying the last everything bagel at my favorite coffee shop 2 minutes before i get there in the morning and has heard about my plight and has started leaving me bragging notes about it ❜❜

notes: fic number two in the serendipity series is here at last!!! this took me like a million and a half years to finish because Real Life happened but here we finally are! also, i changed the type of bagel that the story is centered around, because i honestly didn’t come to like everything bagels until relatively recently and i will still only eat it if it’s part of a bagel sandwich because? just having cream cheese or whatever on an everything bagel feels kind of unhinged to me! but that’s neither here nor there and no one is here for my bagel opinions so! hope you enjoy the story!!! 💕

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dilf!jk, some kissing and hand stuff, ✨sexual tension✨ but nothing too terribly explicit tbh

Silence has never sounded louder.

You drum your fingers against the armrest of your chair, nails clacking against the cheap plastic. On the wall, the second hand of the clock completes yet another revolution, and you glance over when your companion sighs, plucks off her reading glasses, and sets them down on the desk beside the placard that houses her title: Principal Pamela Baker, Hybe Academy.

A woman nearing her fifties, Pam has sandy blonde hair cut into a neat bob and an enviable ability to pull off any lipstick color, no matter how bold. You’re lucky enough to call her both a friend and a mentor, and when she mutters a curse under her breath, you chuckle. “Late again,” she huffs, offering you a wry smile before leaning back in her seat and casting her gaze skyward. “Typical.”

“You know what these corporate types are like, Pam,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “They have zero regard for anyone else’s time. He was twenty minutes late to our parent-teacher conference last semester, so don’t take it personally.”

“Believe me, I know plenty of men like Jungkook Jeon,” Pam says with another sigh, this one heavier and longer than the last. “I even married one, you know. But that was before I came to my senses and divorced his ass. Best decision of my life, right after getting my tubes tied.”

“Three kids was enough for you?” you tease, and Pam snorts out a laugh.

“More than enough,” she replies. “What about you, though? Thinking of having another kid anytime soon?”

“I don’t think so… well, not anytime soon, at least. Ask me again in—”

The sound of a doorknob turning stops you in your tracks, and a moment later, the door to the office swings open with a dull click.

“Principal Baker. Miss {L/N}.” Jungkook Jeon is standing at the threshold in a wool coat the color of charcoal, the buttons of which are undone to reveal the undoubtedly designer suit underneath. His dark hair is parted neatly across his forehead, still sprinkled with lingering snowflakes from his journey here, and you bite back the urge to remark on his tardiness. Instead, you stand when your boss stands up, mustering up every ounce of professionalism you possibly can.

“Mr. Jeon,” Pam says, giving his hand a firm shake before gesturing to the empty chair beside you. “It’s nice to see you again. Please, take a seat.”

You incline your head in Jungkook’s direction as he lowers himself into the plastic chair, the legs scraping against the tiled floor in protest as he adjusts his position. “Hello, Mr. Jeon. Thank you for finally joining us.”

If Jungkook notices the snarky inflection of your tone, he doesn’t let it show. He merely levels you with a cool gaze, blinking lazily before turning to your boss. “Excuse my tardiness,” he says, smoothing down the lapels of his black jacket and straightening his slate blue tie. “I got here as fast as I could. Where is my daughter?”

Pam gestures toward the door. “Daeun is down the hall in the library, under Mr. Kim’s supervision. I thought it best if we spoke without the children first.”

The dark-haired man hums. “What happened, Principal? You were rather vague on the phone.”

Pam nods, and you exchange looks before she turns her attention back to Jungkook. “Yes, well, as I explained on the phone, there was an incident. Daeun forcefully took her classmate’s book during the free reading period, and refused to return it when asked.”

At that, Jungkook casts you another glance. “I see. And I presume the classmate was Miss {L/N}’s daughter?”

“It was,” you confirm, taking care to keep your tone even despite the irritation simmering in your belly. “This is the second time Trixie’s been targeted by your daughter, Mr. Jeon. Do you think that’s a coincidence?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his lips twisting into a displeased frown. “I'm not sure I like what you’re implying, Miss {L/N}.”

The iciness in his voice is unmistakable, but you have fifteen minutes’ worth of annoyance festering in your belly—annoyance that has amplified with every second that he made you wait. That, combined with his behavior last semester is enough to stir that annoyance into full-blown anger. He’s been short with you every time you’ve called to talk about his daughter’s progress in class, and you very nearly canceled his eight o’clock appointment to meet with you during December’s parent-teacher conferences. You remember pulling up his contact information nineteen minutes after eight, thumb hovering over the call button on your phone when he finally burst into your classroom. No preamble, and no apology. He just sat down, as if nothing was amiss, and began asking about Daeun’s grades in math.

It’s no wonder you’ve never heard so much as a word about a Mrs. Jeon. The nosy part of your brain wonders about Jungkook’s home life on occasion, and the more vindictive part relishes in the fact that he’s no doubt a single parent. Any woman would have to be a saint to put up with Jungkook Jeon, you reason, because as far as you’re concerned, he’s the devil.

The devil dressed in head-to-toe Armani, who is currently fixing you with a look that could temper steel.

“Mr. Jeon.” Pam, as always, is quick to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled over her office. “No one is implying anything here. We just want to have a frank, civil discussion about Daeun’s behavior, and see if you can think of anything that may be causing her to act out. A recent change in her life, perhaps? Something new that she hasn’t quite adjusted to yet?”

You take a deep breath, releasing it through your nose before putting your professional mask back on. “Her shift in behavior was extremely sudden,” you chime in, watching out of the corner of your eye as Pam inclines her head in agreement. “Laughing when Trixie and another classmate slipped and fell on the ice, and now this? I don’t believe for a minute that this change came out of nowhere—something must have caused it. Daeun is a smart girl, Mr. Jeon. She’s outgoing and a little rambunctious, but she’s always been kind to her classmates in the past. Today’s behavior was incredibly out of character for her.”

A beat of silence passes, as your words fade into silence. Then Jungkook shifts in his seat, crossing one leg over the other as he turns his full attention to you. “We keep talking about Daeun as if she was the only child involved in this incident, Miss {L/N}. Why don’t we talk about your daughter instead? Trixie, is it?”

And just like that, your mask begins to splinter at the edges. “Trixie was reading quietly at the table when Daeun approached her,” you reply coolly. “She didn’t instigate anything, Mr. Jeon.”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to take your word for it?” Jungkook huffs out a humorless chuckle, leaning back in his seat. “I think you, of all people, might be a little bit biased.”

Fury flares in your belly, hot and bright. “I am a professional, Mr. Jeon,” you manage between clenched teeth. “I care about all of my students equally, and treat them as such. But I don’t expect you to understand that.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, but your boss stops him before he can utter a single syllable. “I think that’s enough for today,” Pam says, rising to her feet and stepping around her desk to shake Jungkook’s hand. Even in heels, she only comes up to his chest, and you would have laughed at the height disparity if it weren’t for the rage still bubbling through your veins. “Like I said before, the girls are just down the hall with Mr. Kim. If you’ll follow me…”

Pam ushers Jungkook out of the office, chattering mindlessly about the cafeteria renovations that are underway—funded in large part by Jungkook himself, you’re certain. As much as you’ve grown to dislike the man, you know that he cares deeply about education and donates a rather large sum to your school every year. Trailing after them by a few paces, you listen as Pam points out a row of plaques hanging on the wall, honoring distinguished students and teachers alike.

The library, when you reach it, is empty save for three figures seated at one of several rectangular tables that occupy the middle of the room. Taehyung Kim, the copper-haired librarian, springs out of his seat upon your arrival, and you wave tiredly as he approaches with a warm, affable grin.

“Welcome!” Taehyung says, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses before extending a hand for Jungkook to shake. “You must be Daeun’s dad. I’m Taehyung Kim, the librarian here at Hybe.”

“Jungkook Jeon.” Then Jungkook’s gaze flits past him to where the two children are seated opposite one another. Daeun is a slender, petite girl with dark hair braided neatly down her back and round, brown eyes that are narrowed in concentration as she colors in a picture of a lion. Quietly, Jungkook strides over to his daughter, kneeling down beside her chair until he’s eye-level. “Hey, Daeun,” you hear him murmur. “What happened today, hmm?”

You, meanwhile, join your own daughter at the table, sitting down in the chair Taehyung abandoned and taking in the paper and coloring utensils scattered across the surface “Hey, jitterbug,” you murmur. “Were you nice to Mr. Kim while I was gone?”

“Tae read us a book about butterflies,” Trixie replies, shrugging her little shoulders. “He taught us about migration.”

You chuckle. “Migration, huh? That sounds interesting. You want to tell me all about it on the drive home?”

Trixie nods, her pigtails bobbing in time with the movement. Then she glances over to where Jungkook is instructing Daeun to pack up her backpack, tucking books and notebooks neatly inside while Daeun collects her crayons and puts them into a sparkly little pink case. “Are we going home now?”

“Soon, bug,” you promise. “I just have to finish up with Mr. Jeon and Principal Baker, okay?”

“Okay,” Trixie says agreeably, returning to her drawing. Pam gestures for you to join her and Jungkook near the library doors, and you meet Taehyung’s gaze as you brush past where he’s pulling a few books down for a display. Good luck, he mouths, and you suppress the urge to make a face. Instead, you mouth a quick thanks back, offering Daeun a quick smile as well before joining her father and your boss at the door.

“Mr. Jeon,” Pam says, casting a surreptitious glance toward Daeun and Trixie before lowering her voice. “I don’t think you should ignore this behavior from your daughter. If there’s something in her home life that is making her act out, I can recommend a few counselors who would be more than happy to speak with the two of y—”

Jungkook shakes his head, a lock of dark hair coming loose from whatever gel he’s used to style it. “With all due respect, Principal Baker, I don’t appreciate my parenting abilities being called into question. I think it’s probably best if Daeun and I take our leave.”

Pam sighs. “Mr. Jeon, I don’t mean to offend. But Daeun did take a book out of Trixie’s hands.”

“And I’ll be sure to discipline her for that,” Jungkook replies. “But if this is all over a book, Principal, I think the solution is simple. I can easily buy her whatever book she needs.”

“I’m not so sure it’s about the book itself,” you point out. “Tae—I mean, Mr. Kim—has multiple copies of Charlotte’s Web available for the students.”

Jungkook hums and turns up the collar of his wool coat, pulling it snug around his throat. “Nonetheless, I think we’re done here. Daeun, we’re leaving.”

The six-year-old looks up from the book Taehyung has checked out for her and immediately runs over to grab her father’s extended hand. “Are we going home?” she asks quietly, and he nods.

“Yeah, we are, sweetheart. Come on. Say bye to your teachers.”

Obediently, Daeun waves to you and Taehyung before bidding Pam goodbye as well. Jungkook offers you a stiff nod, and Pam resignedly offers to walk the duo out. They depart together, and you watch as they disappear around the corner of the hall before turning to Taehyung with a heavy sigh. Trixie is still engrossed in her coloring, and you lower your voice as you join Taehyung where he’s begun re-shelving books from a cart of returns.

“Thank god that’s finally over,” you murmur.

Taehyung glances both ways, ensuring the coast is clear. “Yeah. That Jungkook guy is a total wang.”

///

By the time you pull out of Hybe Academy’s parking lot, rush hour has well and truly begun. Silently, you curse Jungkook’s tardiness as you merge onto the main road and almost immediately come to a complete standstill amongst the traffic. Glancing back in the rearview mirror, you take in the sight of your daughter, buckled neatly into the backseat with her face pressed against the window.

“What color are we looking for today, bug?”

“Red,” she replies, her nose scrunching against the glass. Every day, your daughter picks a color and counts the number of cars she sees in that particular shade. She’s taken to keeping a running tally on the refrigerator—working toward the answer to a research question that only she understands. Her work is accompanied by a variety of figures and diagrams as well, which she’s plastered across the remainder of the refrigerator door and are slowly encroaching on the freezer door as well. You’re pretty sure she’ll need a larger surface soon enough—the wall of the hallway leading to the bedrooms would probably suffice—but until then, you have no plans to interfere with her creativity. If anything, you sometimes wish you could see the world through a child’s eyes again—to view every new experience as an adventure, and delight in the simple things. It’s one of the many reasons you love working at Hybe, even if you do have to deal with the occasional entitled parent.

Unwillingly, your mind wanders back to Jungkook Jeon. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, even if you’re reluctant to admit it and refuse outright to say it aloud. He’s blessed with the kind of face that angels could rhapsodize about—his dark, expressive eyes set above a strong nose and an enticing mouth. His jawline is sharp as a knife, and you’re fairly certain the devil himself sculpted his thighs. Even beneath the drape of his expensive suits, you can see the definition of his musculature as clearly as if he wasn’t wearing anything at all. You wonder—more often than you’d like to admit—how his workplace hasn’t deemed his suits obscene. Maybe he needs a dress code, you think to yourself, easing off the brake as the cars in front of you begin to inch forward. Baggy clothes only from this point forward. The more skin covered, the better.

“Oooh! Found one!” Trixie exclaims, tapping the glass vigorously. “And look, there’s another. It’s a darker red, though.”

You hum and nod toward the traffic up ahead, where you can glimpse the corner of a cherry red bumper. “What about that one up there? That makes three, right?”

In the mirror, you see your daughter nod. A few minutes pass, the two of you calling out when another red car is spotted, and traffic eventually eases up enough that you can continue your way home.

“So, what did Mr. Kim teach you about butterflies?” you query as you make a right turn. “Something about migration?”

Trixie nods absently, still fixated on the cars driving by in the opposite lane. “Yeah. They go south for the winter to stay warm.”

You glance at her reflection in the mirror again. “Must be nice.”

“Yeah.”

Up ahead, the light turns green. You hit the gas, debating whether to bring up Daeun or not, but your daughter speaks again before you can dwell on it any further.

“It’s weird,” Trixie says, her face still pressed against the window and her breath misting the glass. “Daeun was never mean to me before. We weren’t friends, not really. But now it feels like she’s picking on me on purpose and I don’t know why.”

Something in your chest splinters at the tone of her voice—subdued and small. She’s dragging a finger through the fogged up glass now, tracing the crooked outline of a butterfly, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking again.

“We’ll figure it out together, then, jitterbug. Now, why don’t you start thinking about what you want for dinner?”

///

Mornings are always a little chaotic in your home. Trixie is sprinting around the entirety of the two-bedroom apartment looking for her favorite scrunchie, a half-eaten piece of toast clutched in one hand and her backpack swinging from the other. In the kitchen, you’re going through a mental checklist of all the places your daughter could have possibly left the accessory while sipping on your morning coffee. The mug nearly slips from your hand when your pet cat, Taco, slinks past your legs on her way to her food bowl, and you hiss out a sharp curse.

“Fuck!” Hot liquid dribbles down your knuckles. The calico cat gives you an unimpressed look, and you glance both ways to make sure Trixie is out of earshot before wagging a reprimanding finger. “Manners, Taco. You’re better than this.”

Taco merely flicks her tail and turns back to her own breakfast, rebelliously batting her water bowl with a paw before settling down to eat. Sighing, you finish the remainder of your coffee and rinse out the mug, listening as Trixie darts in and begins rummaging through the silverware drawer.

“Bug, I don’t think your scrunchie’s in there,” you remark, earning yourself a shrug in response.

“Can’t be too careful,” she says in a startlingly accurate impression of you, and you can’t decide whether to laugh out loud or roll your eyes. Coming up empty, your daughter runs off again, and you return your attention to your bag, rifling through the folders and assignments within. “Aha!” you hear in the distance, and smile. Trixie comes bounding down the hall a few seconds later with a sparkly holographic scrunchie in hand, and you obligingly help her wind it around her ponytail as she wriggles in place with excitement.

“Ready to go?” you ask once finished, and she nods eagerly. “Have all your homework?” Another nod. “What about those books you have to return to Mr. Kim at the library?”

Trixie heaves a dramatic sigh and fixes you with a look. “Yes, Mom. Can we go now?”

You chuckle and extend your hand for her to take, heaving your bag onto your opposite shoulder. “All right, all right. Let’s go.”

Locking the front door, you and Trixie take the elevator down to the ground floor of the building and exit out into the wintry air. Your car is parked on a nearby side street, and immediately, you see that the windshield is coated in a light layer of frost. Sighing inwardly, you head toward the trunk where you store the ice scraper. Trixie releases your hand when you pop open the lid, and you turn to watch as she skips her way down the sidewalk. “Sure you don’t want a ride to school?” you call.

She stops, her nose wrinkling. “It’s lame to go to school with your teacher, Mom.”

You feign offense, slapping a hand to your heart. “Oh? I’m lame now, am I?”

“Don’t take it personal,” Trixie replies, shrugging. “All adults are kinda lame.”

With that, she waves and darts the rest of the way down the sidewalk, making her way to the bus stop at the end of the block. You watch her go, waiting until she safely joins the other half-dozen kids clustered on the corner beside the stop sign, before turning back to your car and climbing into the driver’s seat.

There’s something calming about your morning commute—something about the low hum of the engine and the whir of wheels against asphalt that soothes your soul. The route downtown is a familiar one, and you navigate it with ease. A glance at the clock on the dashboard tells you that you have just enough time to grab some breakfast, and at the next intersection, you opt to turn left instead of right. Three minutes later, you’re pulling up to your favorite coffee shop in the city, snagging one of the few remaining parking spaces on the street and braving the chill one more time as you head for the brightly painted front door beneath the cheery sign that reads, Bean There, Done That!.

The smell of warm cinnamon and vanilla washes over you as soon as you step inside the coffee shop. There’s a relatively short line, and you pull out your phone as you join it, scrolling through news articles and notifications until you reach the counter. “Good morning, Bonnie,” you greet the middle-aged woman working the cash register, before waving at the man who’s already brewing a fresh espresso in the corner. “Morning, Jin.”

“Hiya, {Name},” Jin replies. As the owner of the shop and a dear friend of yours, he knows your usual order like the back of his hand. “Got your coffee going right now.”

Bonnie smiles at you, nodding as Jin plops your finished drink down and joins her at the counter. “Morning, hun. You’re too late again, I’m afraid. Can I get you something else?”

You glance over at the glass display case where all the baked goods are housed, disappointment sinking into your stomach when you see the empty row in the bagel section. “No cinnamon streusel? Again?”

“Some guy beat you to the last one,” Jin answers as Bonnie rings up your coffee and slides it across the counter into your waiting hands. “Same one as last week, actually. He comes here pretty regularly.”

Your eyes narrow. “You mean the same jerk has taken my bagel three times now? How is it that I haven’t run into him yet?”

“I dunno—dude’s an early riser, I guess. You missed him by about ten minutes this time, but sometimes he’s in here even earlier than that.” Jin shrugs and jabs a thumb toward the back where you can just barely see the kitchen through a small window. “We’ve got more bagels going right now though, if you can wait five minutes.”

The time on your phone’s screen tells you that you cannot. “Sorry,” you tell him. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for school.” Turning, you nod at Bonnie and drop a few bills into the tip jar. “See you both tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Jin pats down his apron pockets and fishes out a crumpled napkin from within. “I almost forgot. The guy—he left a note.”

“He left… what?” You frown. “Why?”

Awkwardly, Jin clears his throat. “I, uh, may have let it slip that he kept beating you to the last cinnamon streusel bagel on Friday. And then he asked if he could leave you a note, so….” Uncrumpling the napkin, he extends it toward you. “Here.”

You can’t help it—curiosity roots in your belly and winds its way to your fingers as you carefully accept the note and smooth it out on the countertop.

Better luck next time ;)

“That prick.”

Jin winces. “Yeah, I know. I mean, he does always leave a twenty in the tip jar, but yeah, totally. I’m with you. Guy’s a wang.”

You’re barely listening. Scowling, you fumble for the pen in your purse, taking the napkin that Bonnie wordlessly hands you and scribbling out your own note so fiercely you nearly rip through the papery material.

Game on, mister.

///

The rest of the week seems to drag by, until Friday arrives at long last and shepherds with it stormy gray clouds on the horizon. You’re already feeling rather grumpy—no doubt thanks in part to the collection of snarky napkin notes you’ve accumulated over the past few days—and the sun’s absence only serves to exacerbate your foul mood. Even worse, you had an unfortunate run-in with one Mr. Jungkook Jeon yesterday, meeting with him in the principal’s office following an incident where Daeun took and hid Trixie’s favorite holographic scrunchie. Thankfully, it was recovered quickly, but even now the mere thought of Jungkook Jeon’s stupid, condescending face is enough to tank your mood. Scowling, you lock your car and head in the direction of Bean There, Done That!, carefully eyeing every person who exits in an effort to discern whether they might have purchased a cinnamon streusel bagel and hoping that none of them have snagged the last.

You’re running a full forty-five minutes early today—all in an attempt to beat the damned bagel thief. Half an hour hadn’t been enough—you found that out the hard way yesterday, when Bonnie had greeted you with an apologetic smile and Jin had wordlessly doubled the usual shot of espresso in your coffee without charge. Looking back, your initial attempts to be a mere fifteen minutes earlier were feeble at worst and laughable at best. But today, you think, today will be different.

The bell over the door jingles pleasantly when you step inside the coffee shop, and you immediately deflate when Jin catches your eye and shakes his head. He’s there to greet you when you finally reach the front of the line, and you sigh as you accept the folded napkin he hands over. “He beat me? Again? Does this guy not sleep?”

“He was super early today,” Jin replies with a shrug. Groaning, you unfold the note and smooth it out on the counter, sucking in a breath when you read the words scrawled there.

What’s that saying again? Something about the early bird always getting the worm? ;)

“That fucking asshole,” you grit out. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Testy,” Jin says, clicking his tongue. “What’s got your panties in a bunch today?”

You sigh. “School stuff, mostly. I had to meet with the father of one of my students yesterday, and he’s a real piece of work. And then I was up late grading homework.”

“You could always assign less,” Jin offers up unhelpfully, which earns him a snort and an eye-roll from you. Relenting, he instead begins pouring your coffee, chattering on as the hot liquid splashes into your cup. “So, about this guy’s impending doom. How exactly do you plan on murdering a man when you don’t even know what he looks like?”

“Stop being logical,” you groan, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Just then, the coffee shop door flies open, letting in a gust of chilly wind. You turn to see Bonnie bustling inside, wearing a bright pink woolen hat and ushering along her eleven-year old son, Caleb. “Hi, hun,” she greets you, her nose scrunching when she sees your frown. “I take it you still haven’t found your mystery bagel man?”

You heave a sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t think I can get DNA off of his notes, so no. I have no idea who this guy is, which means I have no way of tracking him down and giving him a piece of my mind.”

Bonnie tuts sympathetically and pats your arm. “Sorry, hun.” Giving your elbow an affectionate squeeze, she slips past the counter and into the back room to grab her paycheck. Jin finishes up with your drink, and you thank him as you take a long sip. Then you turn to Bonnie’s son, who’s taken a seat in a nearby booth and is doodling on a piece of scrap paper.

“Hey, Caleb. How’s it going?”

The boy, normally quite talkative, just shrugs. Taken aback, you decide not to press the issue and instead turn back to Jin, who’s wiping down the espresso machine and whistling something that sounds vaguely like “Never Gonna Give You Up” under his breath. Bonnie returns then, and you give her a quizzical glance as she pours herself a to-go cup of coffee and adds two generous pumps of caramel syrup. Is something up with Caleb? you mouth, and watch as confusion flits across her face before realization dawns.

“Don’t worry about him,” she whispers, approaching you so you can hear. “He’s just a little bummed from yesterday. Misspelled ‘serendipity’ in the school spelling bee, and it cost him the win in the end.”

You wince. “Ouch. That hurts.”

“Yeah, that sucks real hard,” Jin chimes in from his spot at the espresso machine. “Little guy didn’t even try to steal a cookie from the display like he normally does.”

Bonnie chuckles. “I’ll grab a couple to-go, then—a double chocolate and a snickerdoodle, if you please. But then we’ve really got to head out. School starts in twenty.”

At the reminder, you pull out your phone and glance at the time. “Yeah, I need to leave soon too. Give my best to Caleb, okay? There’s always next year’s spelling bee.” Turning to Jin, you hand over your credit card to pay for the coffee before grabbing a pen and a napkin. It takes you a few seconds to figure out what you want to write, and then another few to scrawl out the note:

Don’t forget, the tortoise always beats the hare in the end.

Straightening up, you hand the napkin over to Jin, who accepts it wordlessly and tucks it into his pocket. And once he’s handed your card back to you, you wave goodbye to both Jin and Bonnie before heading out.

It’s typically a five-minute drive to Hybe Academy from the coffee shop, but this morning, it takes you almost ten. Every red light in the city has seemingly teamed up in order to make you late, and you make it through the door of your classroom with mere minutes to spare. Thankfully, the first bell hasn’t rung yet, and to your surprise, Taehyung is still lounging in your desk chair when you enter the room. The two of you have a longstanding tradition of having breakfast together in the mornings—even if breakfast just turns out to be two extra-large cups of coffee with anywhere between zero and four shots of espresso added in. Taehyung occasionally brings in some of his kitchen experiments as well, and you’ve had to politely decline his offer to share on more than one occasion.

“Hey, there you are!” Taehyung grins and props his feet up onto your desk, crossing one leg over the other. “I was just about to leave.”

“Really? It looks like you’ve made yourself pretty comfortable,” you reply, dropping your bag onto the floor and collapsing into the chair he’s pulled up beside him. “Must be nice, not having to worry about being on time for first period.”

Taehyung nestles deeper into the back of your chair and lets his eyes drift shut. “Sure is.”

You snort and take a sip of your coffee. “Jerk.”

“I’m rubber, you’re glue,” he replies without missing a beat, his eyes remaining staunchly shut.

Shaking your head, you instead direct your attention to the tupperware container that’s sitting on the desk in front of your friend. You can see what looks like some kind of pastry inside, and prod curiously at it before poking Taehyung in the shoulder. “So, what’s this? Don’t tell me you tried to make croque monsieurs again.”

“Excuse you, those weren’t even that bad,” he defends, his eyes flying open. “And no, I didn’t. I made quiche this time.”

“Right,” you say suspiciously. “And what’s in it?”

“Bacon, cheese, onions,” Taehyung lists with a shrug. “Oh, and a few baby carrots I had on hand. I didn’t really know what else to do with them.”

It’s far from the strangest combination your friend has come up with—a sentiment you voice aloud as you pry open the edge of the container and accept the fork he hands over. “This feels shockingly normal.” Cautiously, you dig into an edge and bring it to eye level so you can examine the filling. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“I’m going to start force feeding you if you don’t stop teasing,” Taehyung threatens, grabbing a fork for himself and helping himself to a generous bite. “Seriously, give it a try—I promise it’s good. I didn’t even drop any eggshells in it this time.”

Laughing, you bring the quiche to your mouth. The pastry is flaky and the filling is smooth, and you’re pleasantly surprised by the harmonious balance of seasonings that you taste. Taehyung watches in satisfaction as you go in for a bigger piece, and pushes the tupperware closer when you nearly drop it.

“Told you it was good,” he says smugly, and you can only nod your agreement and raise your coffee in silent commendation.

The two of you eat in silence for a few moments—until you remember the napkin shoved in your pocket and pull it out with a grimace. You’ve ranted to Taehyung about your new nemesis on more than one occasion by this point, and he doesn’t even blink as he flattens out the material and scans the words scrawled there. “I’ve gotta say, the guy’s got good handwriting,” he remarks, and you immediately fix him with a scowl.

“Really? You’ve got to say that?”

Taehyung holds up his hands innocently. “Just an observation,” he says. “How many of these notes do you even have now? Three?”

“Five,” you grumble. “And I’m still no closer to figuring out who he is. I don’t suppose you have access to a police database or anything, right? Some way to match this guy’s handwriting?”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that,” is Taehyung’s blasé reply. “Besides, it’s not like you’re going to do anything, even if you do figure out who he is. You’ll just keep stewing until something else comes along, so why even bother with the manhunt in the first place?”

You sniff. “I’m raising Trixie to be a strong, determined woman who can accomplish anything she sets her mind to. What kind of example would I be setting if I can’t do this one thing?”

Taehyung doesn’t even bother trying to disguise his snort of laughter. “You’re so full of shit. Jesus Christ.”

The bell rings, then—signaling that students have five minutes to make their way to their classrooms. You sigh, and Taehyung wordlessly stands up and begins gathering his tupperware back into his bag, tucking the cutlery in last and grabbing his remaining coffee as he turns toward the door.

“Catch you later,” he says at the threshold, and you wave him off before brushing a few stray crumbs off your desk. Finishing off the last of your coffee, you pull your planner from your bag and absentmindedly shove the napkin note in its place—putting away any and all thoughts of your bagel nemesis as students slowly begin filtering into your classroom. Trixie briefly catches your eye as she files in with a couple of her friends, and you smile as you rise from your seat and begin outlining the day’s lesson plan on the chalkboard.

There’s no doubt that Fridays are your favorite. Friday afternoons at Hybe Academy are dedicated to the arts, and listening to the soft strains of music coming from the orchestra room and the various solo instruments taking lessons brings you boundless joy. You love seeing the new paintings on the walls the following Monday too, and often stay a while after school lets out on Friday to hang up the pieces produced by your own class.

But this particular Friday—it isn’t going as planned at all.

You’re beginning to think that this morning’s strike from your bagel thief was an omen. Up until two hours ago, it’s just been the usual inconveniences and minor drawbacks—a misplaced pencil here, or a spilled bit of juice there. But now, halfway through the schoolday, you feel like you’re drowning. Your stomach is growling and your hair is in disarray, and it’s all thanks to the fact that you currently have twice the amount of students you normally do occupying your classroom—all of whom are seemingly intent on covering every available surface with splatters of paint.

You can’t blame Miss Kumar, of course. Family emergencies are just that—emergencies. They can’t be predicted or controlled, and when she was called at lunchtime with unexpected news, you understood that she had to leave immediately. In an unfortunate turn of events, none of the Academy’s usual substitute teachers were available, and you soon found yourself haplessly watching on as her first-graders filed into your room with chairs in tow, taking up residence two to a desk alongside your own students.

And even though you’re doing your absolute best to maintain some semblance of order, you know you’ve lost when one of Miss Kumar’s students—Nicholas, you think his name is—upends a little plastic canister of paint onto his desk and splats both hands into it. Blue paint goes flying in every direction, and as he giggles, the other children quickly begin to follow his lead.

“Guys, no, wait—” you try to say, but it’s too late. A fully fledged paint fight has broken out, and you watch in horror as Daeun flings a dollop of yellow paint straight onto Trixie’s Hercules shirt.

If there’s a bright spot in all of this, it’s that Principal Pam Baker works fast. You’d called her mere minutes into the fight breaking out, and she’d done her part by calling the parents of the students you’d named as instigators of the fight. Those who could came in right away, and once you managed to settle everyone down, you brought their kids down to Pam’s office so that she could have a group meeting with both the parents and students alike. The remaining children you took to the library to be watched by Taehyung while you cleaned up your classroom. It’s an absolute disaster zone, and you’ve only just begun spraying down the first desk when the door flies open.

“Most of the children are at the library,” you say without turning around, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn bit of red paint on the corner of the desk with a wet wipe. “If you’re looking for your child, you’d best head over there.”

“Actually, I’m here to speak to you,” a familiar voice says, and dread pools in your stomach as you turn and find yourself face-to-face with none other than Jungkook Jeon, his dark eyes unreadable. On his wrist, just barely concealed beneath the sleeve of his charcoal overcoat, you can see his expensive silver watch glinting in the fluorescent light.

“Mr. Jeon,” you manage once you’ve found your voice again. “How can I help you?”

For a few long seconds, Jungkook remains silent. He steps over the threshold and into your classroom, taking in the paint-splattered walls and the chairs scattered haphazardly about. Then his gaze settles on you, his nose wrinkling slightly as he speaks again.

“It smells in here.”

“It’s the paint,” you answer shortly, stepping over an upended cup of brushes and making your way to the window. Fumbling with the lock, you struggle for a few seconds before finally managing to heave it open, letting in a welcome gust of cool wintry air.

Jungkook watches all of this in silence. Then he hums, faint amusement lacing his voice. “I see that.”

Irritation blooms in your belly at his blasé tone. “What did you want to talk about, Mr. Jeon? If you’re looking for Daeun, I’m afraid she’s down the hall in Principal Baker’s office.”

“I’m well aware of that.” Jungkook takes a step forward, the heels of his sleek black oxfords clicking against the tiled floor. “This is the second time you’ve lost control of your classroom, I believe. And tell me, Miss {L/N}, why has my daughter been sent to the principal’s office two days in a row, now?”

You glance up from where you’ve begun wiping at a spot of hot pink paint on the windowsill. “With all due respect, Mr. Jeon, I think that’s a question that only Daeun can answer.”

“Daeun.” There’s outright laughter in Jungkook’s voice now—but it’s the humorless sort that makes the hairs on your neck stand on end. “Right, of course. The blame is always on my daughter, isn’t it? Never any of the others. Never your own.”

For a moment, you can only stare at him. Then, without even fully realizing what you’re doing, you begin walking forward. First one step, and then another—until the tips of your sensible block heels are mere inches from the tips of his oxfords. Emotion is building steadily in your chest—a cocktail of exhaustion and anger topped off with the day’s frustrations—and all of it comes flooding out as you raise your chin and look Jungkook Jeon square in the eye.

“Unlike you, I saw what happened today, Mr. Jeon. Several students were responsible for instigating and perpetuating this fight, and unfortunately, Daeun was one of them. I don’t appreciate you implying that I favor any of my students over others, and I certainly don’t appreciate you questioning my ability as a teacher.” Your chest heaves as you pause to take a breath. “I am a professional, Mr. Jeon. Maybe you don’t think so, but I am. I’ve been teaching for nearly a decade, and I’ve spent almost every day with these children for the past year. You don’t get to come in here and disrespect me in my own classroom. I don’t care how much money you give to this school. I’m not beholden to you or your money, and I’ll thank you to not come in here with unnecessary attitude and finger-pointing.”

Your blood is rushing in your ears by the time your speech comes to an end. Jungkook is silent, staring down his nose at you for three long seconds before he deliberately raises a dark eyebrow. “Are you finished?” he asks.

You shiver as his hot breath fans against your cheeks. “No.” And then, in a surge of stupid, adrenaline-fueled bravery, you add, “I kind of want to cuss you out, to be honest.”

The other eyebrow rises to join the first, as a huff of wry laughter escapes his lips. “Oh?”

You deflate slightly, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. It shouldn’t be so easy for a parent to get a rise out of you, but Jungkook seems to do it so easily—and so often. “I’m not going to,” you murmur.

“No?” Jungkook’s gaze darts down to your lips, then up to your eyes, and then down to your lips again. “That’s rather disappointing.”

Unwittingly, you’ve drifted even closer to him since you first started talking. You can see each fleck of amber in his irises, and could probably count each of his individual eyelashes if you so cared. This close to him, you can see that one of his eyebrows is pierced—his dark hair brushed back just enough to reveal the silvery metal embedded in his skin. You don’t pull away though, and neither does he. If anything, he seems to be willing you closer—his lips parting and his tongue darting out to moisten them.

And then he blinks, and you pull back as if burned. “If… if that’s all, I should really get back to cleaning up,” you stammer, hating the wobble in your voice as you return to your desk and grab a fresh wet wipe. “Principal Baker’s office is down the hall on the left.”

“I remember. I was there yesterday, after all.” The faint amusement has returned to his tone. Straightening his tie, he begins making his way to the exit, only to pause in the doorframe and glance at you once more over his shoulder. “Oh, and Miss {L/N}?”

You look up. “Yes?”

“You should really look in a mirror. It looks like a Smurf exploded on your face.”

///

Saturday brings with it clear blue skies and a sweet, sweet reprieve from the chaos of the week. You’d promised Trixie that you would make ratatouille together over the weekend—just like in the movie—and now you’re making good on that promise as you push a shopping cart around the grocery store with your daughter skipping happily by your side. “Ooh! We need these, right?” she exclaims, pointing at a display of zucchini, and you nod, watching as she carefully selects two and plunks them into the cart.

Together, the two of you finish up in the produce section and head for the aisles that house all the baking goods. Trixie peruses the shelves as you stock up on the essentials—flour, sugar, and a couple boxes of baking soda. Then you grab a package of chocolate chips, laughing when Trixie immediately perks up at the sound of the bag crinkling and whirls around to look at you with wide, eager eyes.

“Can we do chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies?” she asks, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

“I think you’re pushing your luck, young lady,” you tell her, but relent when she selflessly offers to bring the extras to class on Monday to share.

Ten minutes later, you’re heading toward the checkout line when you suddenly realize that you’ve forgotten something. “Tomatoes,” you say aloud, glancing down at Trixie apologetically. “Totally slipped my mind. Let’s go grab some, bug.”

Trixie sighs dramatically, but turns toward the produce section nonetheless. Faster than you can blink, she trots off, leaving you to trail after her with the shopping cart. Maneuvering around a particularly tall display of onions, you pull out your phone to check the grocery list one more time—only to be interrupted by the metallic clang of your shopping cart hitting another. Immediately, you open your mouth to apologize, but stop short when your eyes meet the owner of the other cart.

“O-oh,” you stammer, your head spinning as you try to recover your full vocabulary. “Mr. Jeon. I… I didn’t see you there.”

Jungkook chuckles. “That much I gathered.” Then he nods toward Trixie, who you can just barely see two aisles and a crate of watermelons away. “Doing some shopping, Miss {L/N}?”

You don’t respond. Your brain is in overdrive, struggling to reconcile the Jungkook standing in front of you with the one you’d seen just yesterday in your paint-splattered classroom. His dark hair isn’t parted neatly across his forehead for once—instead, it falls in soft waves around his face. Rather reluctantly, your brain acknowledges that he looks good—irritatingly so. You’ve never seen him in casual clothes before—only neatly pressed suits that cost more than your entire paycheck—and the change is jarring to say the least. His purple sweatshirt is baggy and his black joggers are just tight enough to show off the definition of his thighs, and—

—hang on, is he wearing Birkenstocks?

Trixie, thankfully, comes to the rescue as you gape at Jungkook’s feet for several seconds too long. “Is this enough?” she asks, lugging a plastic bag bulging with at least a dozen heirloom tomatoes. Still a little shellshocked, you look down at her, blinking dumbly before bursting into laughter.

“That’s plenty, bug. In fact, we probably need to put some back, unless you want tomatoes in your cookies too.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Trixie says thoughtfully, pursing her lips. “Or we can make marinara and have spaghetti and meatballs tomorrow!”

Jungkook chooses that moment to huff out a laugh of his own. “Spaghetti and meatballs, huh? Great minds must think alike—Daeun suggested the exact same thing for our dinner tonight. Only thing is, we’re apparently making everything by hand, even the spaghetti. And we’ve never made pasta before, so…” He chuckles. “You can imagine how well that’ll probably go.”

You glance around the nearest visible aisles. “Daeun’s a proper little chef, I see. Is she here with you?”

The dark-haired man gestures toward the back of the grocery store. “I tasked her with grabbing some milk and eggs while I get the onions. She won’t go near them until they’re cooked, so I figured this would be most efficient.”

You grin. “Divide and conquer, huh?”

“Exactly,” Jungkook answers with a surprisingly boyish smile. You note with amusement that his front teeth are more prominent than the rest, just enough to give him the resemblance of a rabbit. Rather unfairly, it somehow manages to work in his favor when put together with the rest of him. Your cheeks warm when you register again just how handsome he truly is, and you quickly suck in a deep breath as you search around for a distraction.

You’re in luck. Daeun rounds the corner of a nearby display of cantaloupes with a wide grin, a gallon jug of milk and a carton of eggs in either hand. Her grin widens when she spots you, and you chuckle as she tries and fails to raise her jug-bearing hand to wave.

“Hi, Miss {L/N}!” she exclaims as she comes to a stop alongside Jungkook’s cart and deposits her goods inside. “What’re you doing here?”

“Dae,” Jungkook chides gently, but you laugh and wave him off.

“Hi, Daeun. I’m doing some shopping with Trixie, just like you are with your dad. Speaking of which—you probably have a lot of cooking to get to.” You return your attention to Jungkook. “I mean, I know we do. Somehow, I was talked into making two types of cookies this weekend, so we should really head out and get started.”

“Wait—hang on a second.” Jungkook speaks again, and maybe it’s your imagination but you think you hear a tinge of desperation in his tone. “I’m actually glad we ran into you today. We were going to do this on Monday but since you’re both here, Daeun has something she’d like to say to Trixie. Isn’t that right, Dae?”

Daeun’s gaze drops to where she’s scuffing her sneakered feet against the tiled linoleum floor. Jungkook reaches down, giving her an encouraging nudge, and she hesitates for a second before looking back up and glancing between you and Trixie. “I’m sorry,” she begins shyly. “I shouldn’t’ve thrown paint at you. Or taken your book.” And when Jungkook nudges her again and lifts an eyebrow, she continues again. “And… I’m sorry for laughing when you fell down on the playground. It wasn’t funny, and I wasn’t being nice. I’m really sorry, Trixie.”

There’s a beat of silence, as Daeun falls silent and looks at your daughter hopefully. You glance between the two girls, then up at Jungkook, who still has a hand on Daeun’s shoulder and seems to be holding his breath. Trixie, for her part, looks to be deep in thought, her face scrunched in contemplation as she taps a finger against her lips. Vaguely, you wonder if you should say something, but decide against it.

And then Trixie beams, toothy and bright. Daeun’s answering smile is still tentative, but it transforms into full-blown giggles when your daughter rushes forward and clasps one of her hands in both of her own. “I forgive you,” she says shortly, giving her hand a shake like a little businesswoman. You and Jungkook watch on as the two girls proceed to skip off, hand-in-hand and singing “Baby Shark”.

“Wow,” you remark, turning back to Jungkook. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. What brought that on?”

Jungkook begins to look rather sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck. “I actually have a bit of a confession to make. Not to mention, I owe you a huge apology. I talked to Dae last night, and… well, you were right. She wasn’t acting out for no reason. She… she was actually jealous of Trixie."

You frown. "What?"

He nods. "Yeah. See, I got promoted at my job a while ago. Right after the holidays, I had to start working longer hours, which of course meant less time at home with her. And I guess all of that took its toll, especially since I had to stop taking her to school every morning.” He sighs. “She didn’t adjust very well to that. I tried my best to make things work, but there’s only so much I can do, you know? Eventually I had to set up a morning carpool with some of the neighbors. And I tried to ease the transition as much as I could, but…” He trails off with another sigh. “Guess I did kind of a shit job there.”

Your mind is reeling at all of this new information, but you manage to find your voice again after a few moments. “You did your best,” you tell him, resisting the sudden urge to reach out and touch his arm. “And you’re still trying. That’s all that matters, you know. You’re trying to make things better. Daeun can sense that, and believe me, it’s paying off.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I think you’re giving me too much credit, but thank you. I’m just glad that Dae has a good school and good teachers. Actually, you’ve always been her favorite, did you know that?”

You didn’t. “Really?”

“Really.”

You aren’t sure what to say after that, so you opt to look around instead. At some point—you aren’t sure when—the two of you must’ve started walking around the grocery store again because all around you are shelves full of bread and baked goods. Mindlessly, you grab a bag of everything bagels and smile when Jungkook follows your lead and drops a bag into his own cart.

A few minutes of meandering later, you find Trixie and Daeun together in the snack aisle, deep in discussion about their favorite candies. The conversation winds down as you and Jungkook approach, and you decide not to comment when Trixie not-so-surreptitiously slips a package of chocolate caramels into your shopping cart.

“We should probably get going,” you say instead, pulling out your phone and glancing at the time. “Gosh, there really aren’t enough hours in the day. You ready, bug?”

“Yep!” Trixie replies cheerily, turning to wave goodbye to Daeun and Jungkook. “Bye, Daeun! Bye, Mr. Jeon!”

“See you Monday, Trixie! You too, Miss {L/N}!” Daeun exclaims. And as you and Jungkook exchange smiles and farewells of your own, you feel lighter than you’ve felt in days, as if an invisible weight has lifted.

///

Like clockwork, Monday morning finds you at the counter of Bean There, Done That! with an apologetic Jin offering you your usual coffee in a size larger than the one you’d paid for. “Again?” you exclaim as you accept the cup and take a generous sip. “I can’t believe this. You opened like, twenty minutes ago.”

The corner of Jin’s mouth twitches. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he produces a full tray of cinnamon streusel bagels from somewhere beneath the counter, picking out the best-looking one before sliding the tray into its spot in the display. “I just wanted to see the look on your face,” he admits as he slips the bagel into a paper bag and hands it over. “These are fresh—still pretty warm, in fact. Surprised you didn’t smell them when you came in.”

“I did smell them,” you tell him, wagging a finger. “But the blueberry bagels are always kind of overpowering and this whole place tends to smell like vanilla anyway, so excuse me for taking you for your word when you said you were out.”

“You know, a simple ‘thank you’ would’ve sufficed,” Jin sniffs. Then he gestures to the stack of napkins next to the cash register and waggles his eyebrows. “Care to leave a snarky note of your own?”

A slow grin spreads across your face as you start fishing in your purse for a pen. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

///

The rest of the day goes smoothly, and you’re pretty sure it’s all thanks to the cinnamon streusel bagel you’d had the time to truly savor this morning. You’d even bought an extra for Taehyung, who for his part contributed a tupperware full of bacon strips and a pitcher of mixed berry smoothie to your breakfast. For lunch you’d made sure to eat a healthy dose of vegetables, and as you head into the final period of the day, you feel more than ready to give a room full of children their next big assignment.

“All right, class,” you say as your students filter into the classroom and start taking their seats. “We’ve been learning about the animal kingdom for the last few weeks, and it’s finally time to put everything we’ve learned so far together. I’m going to go around and hand each of you a card. Take a look at it—you’ll either see a picture of an animal, or the name of an animal.” Grabbing the stack of cards off your desk, you begin distributing them, slowly making your way up and down the rows of desks. “Then, I want you to get up out of your seats and find the card that matches yours. If there’s a picture of a zebra on your card, you want to find the person with ‘zebra’ written on their card. And that person will be your partner for this project. Does that make sense to everyone?”

Nods and exclamations of affirmation all around. Satisfied, you hand out the last of your cards and return to your desk, gesturing for your students to stand up and find their partners. You watch as the children mill around, exclaiming happily when they find their match. Much to your satisfaction, you see that Daisy—a little girl who always has her blond hair corralled into a neat braid—and Josiah—a well-mannered boy with a different-colored polo for each day of the week—just so happen to be partners. You hadn’t planned it that way, but you’ve always gotten the feeling that there was a hint of a little crush there.

Another pleasant surprise comes in the form of Daeun, who’s plopped herself in the seat beside Trixie and is animatedly gesturing at her card. Even from your spot in the front of the classroom, you can read the big block letters that spell out “penguin” and see the corresponding line drawing on Trixie’s card. And as the girls begin to chat, it’s as if the issues of the last few months hadn’t happened at all.

Your class spends the last few hours of the school day in the library, working on their newly assigned project. You’ve set up shop at the table nearest Taehyung’s desk, which you’ve always kind of envied. Perfectly round and situated in the center of the room, it allows for a 360-degree view of the entire library if he so much as spins in his chair. “Honestly, I could get so much done if I had one of these,” you lament to him as you watch Josiah sharpen Daisy’s pencil for her out of the corner of your eye. “I’d set up the best frickin’ assembly line you ever saw.”

“You sound like a workaholic,” Taehyung replies, doing yet another lazy revolution in his seat. “Or a lunatic. Same thing, really.”

Resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at him, you settle for rolling your eyes instead. The final bell of the day rings, and you shepherd your students out of the library with your friend on your heels. As the children disperse to their lockers, you trail after Trixie and Daeun, waiting for the two to say their goodbyes so you and your daughter can walk to the car together. It’s still odd seeing the two getting along so well, but you aren’t about to question it as you and Taehyung follow the girls to their lockers—which happen to be in the same section of the hallway—and then out and into the bright afternoon sun. Smiling, you listen to them chattering excitedly about the project even as Taehyung launches into a tirade about his latest rent increase.

“Seriously, I should just move at this point—it’s fucking ridiculous. I don’t even use the conference center, and the indoor pool is just a waste of space when there’s a public one that’s twice the size three blocks away. And that one even has a hot tub! Not to mention—”

You sigh, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Jeez, Tae, just move. You’ve been threatening to for over a year now, and it’s not like anyone’s forcing you to stay. You don’t even like the neighborhood, for god’s sake. I don’t know why you stuck around for that long.”

Taehyung sniffs. “Moving’s just such a hassle, you know? I really wanted to avoid it, but I guess I can’t this time around. A 22% rent increase… fucking hell. You’ll help me pack, won’t you?”

“I’d rather not.”

“But you’re so good at packing! And you have all that bubble wrap and the box of styrofoam peanuts hoarded in your closet—”

“Stored in my closet.”

“Whatever,” he says dismissively, waving you off. “I’m not here to debate semantics with you.”

“No, you’re here to guilt me into helping you move,” you reply. “What’s up with that, anyway? I thought you swore off of renting U-Hauls for good after last time. You were googling moving companies and getting quotes for weeks.”

“Yeah, I definitely lost that spreadsheet,” Taehyung admits. “Besides, money’s a little tight right now. Every last bit of spare change we have is going toward Jimin’s new pilates studio. We’re saving wherever and whenever we can.”

You nod in understanding at the mention of his fiancé and his new business venture. “How’s all that going, anyhow? I know Jimin’s been super busy—we haven’t been to bar trivia in weeks.”

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing,” Taehyung says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Starting a business is hard—who knew?”

“Who knew, indeed,” you echo. You’re about to say something else, too, but any semblance of coherence flies out of your head when you glance at the girls again and see that they’ve come to a stop. There’s a sleek black Mercedes-Benz idling at the curb, and leaning against it is none other than Jungkook Jeon—dressed in a sharp navy blue ensemble with his hair slicked back and dark sunglasses perched on his nose. It’s impossible to tell whether he’s seen you yet, and it’s all you can do to tear your gaze away before you get caught staring. Turning back instead to Taehyung, you raise a hand in farewell. “Well, it looks like this is my stop.”

“Seems that way,” your friend hums, casting a curious glance at Trixie, who’s enthusiastically greeted Jungkook with a Hi again, Mr. Jeon! and is now giggling with Daeun about how they can see their reflections in his car. “See you tomorrow. Don’t get into too much trouble!”

You roll your eyes at the flagrant wink Taehyung sends your way, surreptitiously flipping him off from behind your tote bag. Then you make your way over to your daughter, who’s still engrossed in conversation. Coming to a stop behind her, you lay a hand on her shoulder, smiling as she looks up and flashes you a big grin. “All righty. You ready to go home, jitterbug?” you ask.

Trixie juts her bottom lip out into a pout. “Can I go to Daeun’s?”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing up at Jungkook, who’s now scrolling through his phone. Then you return your gaze to your daughter, taking in her eager, bright eyes. “I don’t know, bug. Have you asked Mr. Jeon if you can come over?”

Daeun pipes up then, her pigtails bobbing with every word. “He says it’s okay, Miss {L/N}! Since we have a project to work on and all. He even said we can order takeout for dinner!”

Again, you look at Jungkook. His expression is unreadable behind his sunglasses, but when he feels your gaze he glances up, tucking his phone back into his pocket and pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. “Dae’s right—I did promise the girls takeout. Sorry to catch you off guard with last-minute plans like this, Miss {L/N}. If you’d like, you’re welcome to join us as well.”

You blink. To say that the invitation has caught you off guard would be a massive understatement, and as your brain races to catch up, you suddenly realize that he’s willing to let you come to his home. You would be in his space—where he lives, eats, sleeps. The thought is simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.

“I—I don’t want to impose,” you finally manage after what feels like an eternity. “I’m sure you’re busy, and I have a lot of homework to grade, and…” You trail off, hesitant, and Jungkook waits a beat before chiming in.

“No imposition at all,” he says, offering you a small smile. “Honest. I’ve spent two of the last three weekends hosting sleepovers for Daeun’s friends, and I’m not convinced I remember what adult company is like anymore.” Then his smile widens—just enough to offer a glimpse of his endearingly prominent front teeth and crinkle the corners of his eyes. “Remind me?”

You aren’t sure if you’re imagining the flirtatious edge in his tone, but you push the thought to the very back of your head and straighten the hem of your blouse before grasping for the phone tucked in your bag. “I… I suppose that would be all right,” you begin hesitantly as you pretend to check for new notifications. “You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”

“None at all,” Jungkook reassures. “Here, I’ll give you my address for your GPS, but it might be easier if you just follow me. Where are you parked?”

You gesture toward the staff parking lot, which is usually separated from the main lot by a row of neatly manicured hydrangea bushes that bloom in bursts of pink and blue and purple during the spring and summer months. Right now, there are only a few sparse yellow daffodils, pushing up through the dirt and signaling that spring is not far off despite the lingering chill in the air. “I’m about three rows in. I can drive over and meet you here, if that works?”

Trixie chooses that moment to pipe up, instinctively raising her hand like she’s still in class. “Can I ride with Daeun and Mr. Jeon?”

You hesitate, glancing over at Jungkook, who shrugs as if to say fine by me. Turning your attention back to your daughter, you nod and reach down to adjust the glittery pink scrunchie in her hair. “Be good,” you order. “Don’t distract Mr. Jeon while he’s driving, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Trixie hums, already turning toward the sleek black Benz and tugging on the door handle. “See you there, Mom!”

You wave, watching as the girls climb into the backseat before turning and making your way to your own car. Unlocking the door, you slide into the driver’s seat and take a deep breath. Then, you take another. And a few moments later, you take a third.

Even as you mentally play back the events of the afternoon, you still can’t wrap your head around how it came to this. Here you are, about to drive to Jungkook Jeon’s house. You’ve seen his address in your files, and you know from the street name that he lives downtown, in the part of the city that’s dominated by high-rise buildings and five-star hotels. It’s an area that you don’t visit often, having no reason to unless there’s a particular restaurant that you’re looking to try out—and have the money for. It feels odd inputting his address into your phone’s navigation app, but you do so nonetheless, watching as it calculates the optimal route.

Steeling yourself, you start up the ignition and ease up on the brake. As you pull out of your parking space, you crane your head to see if Jungkook’s car is still where you’d last seen it, which it thankfully is. Slowly, you make your way over to where the Benz is idling, pulling up alongside him and giving him a little wave. Jungkook has donned his sunglasses again, but he lowers them when he sees you and nods in acknowledgment. Ready to go? he mouths, and you nod even though it’s a lie. You aren’t ready. You aren’t sure you ever will be. But Jungkook is already pulling ahead and out of the parking lot, and you’re forced to push aside your intrusive thoughts and follow.

The first stretch of the drive is easy. Jungkook is a measured driver, and you can tell that he’s taking care to turn only when there’s enough room for both of your vehicles. The second stretch, however, proves far more difficult. Now that you’re downtown, there’s an abundance of one-way streets and pedestrians. Traffic lights sit on seemingly every corner, alternating between red, yellow, and green at random, as far as you can tell. You nearly lose Jungkook twice on particularly short green lights, and only narrowly avoid hitting an overeager dog dragging its hapless owner into the crosswalk before the walk sign has changed.

The third time, it finally happens. Dismayed, you watch as Jungkook’s sleek black Benz cruises past a green light, just before it turns yellow for a split second and then flips to red. You’re forced to brake far faster than you’d prefer—way too fast to be safe, for sure—and watch as Jungkook disappears around the Starbucks on the next corner. Muttering out a quiet curse, you drum your fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as you wait for the light to change again. Thankfully, you’re only about two minutes from your destination.

After what feels like an eternity, the light finally turns green. Releasing your foot on the brake, you take the turn that Jungkook had taken, glancing between your phone and the surrounding buildings to identify your destination. There’s a string of restaurants, a pharmacy, and a post office. You cruise past a dentist’s office and a few dry cleaners, and then your phone is directing you to turn right onto a street that boasts a long row of glass-fronted office buildings.

Two blocks later, you’re pulling up to a tall, sleek chrome building. The first floor is occupied by a seafood restaurant and the second and third seem to be a gym, but as you crane your head upward you can see that the floors above that seem to be condominiums. Letting your head fall back against the headrest, you glance down at your phone one more time, confirming that this is indeed your destination. Then you take a long, deep breath before you begin following the little blue signs that claim to lead to a parking garage beneath the building.

To your relief, the garage itself isn’t difficult to find. You take a ticket from the machine as you descend down the concrete ramp, keeping an eye out for any open spots that are designated as guest parking. Seconds pass, and then minutes. Your heart flutters nervously in your chest as you descend deeper into the parking garage, seeking a break in the rows of cars that never comes. You’re seconds away from giving up and turning around, when finally, you see an open spot. It’s a little cramped and it’s right next to a concrete pillar that’s just a little too close for comfort, but you manage to squeeze into the space. Heaving a deep sigh of relief, you turn off the ignition and tuck your keys into your purse, taking a moment to gather yourself before exiting your car and locking it behind you.

That’s when you encounter your next obstacle: figuring out how, exactly, to get out of the parking garage. You can’t find a single sign to guide your way—only a locked dark green door that you assume is some kind of mechanical room. Groaning, you spin in a full circle, taking in your concrete surroundings. Maybe if you just start walking, you’ll find a sign that will point you to the elevators. You’d even consider taking the stairs at this point, no matter how many floors down you are (you’re pretty sure it’s seven or eight).

Just then, your phone begins to buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see Jungkook Jeon (Daeun’s Dad) emblazoned across the screen and immediately swipe to answer. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Jungkook says, obvious relief coloring his tone. “I’m sorry I lost you back there. Where are you now?”

“I’m in the parking garage below your building,” you reply, idly scuffing your foot along the concrete floor. “I’m parked pretty far down, and now I can’t seem to figure out how to get upstairs.”

Jungkook hums thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’ll admit the signage isn’t great down there. Let me see… can you see any doors?”

“Just this green one, but it’s locked.” Reaching out, you try the handle again to double-check. “Other than that, nothing.”

Another hum from the man on the other end of the line. “Okay, walk away from that door. Try and head toward the middle of the garage—that’s where the elevators are. There’s four of them, and they’re in this big concrete circle. Can you see them yet?”

“Maybe?” You can see a break in the rows of cars up ahead, and a rounded concrete wall in the distance. Speeding up, you make your way around the edge and blink as a bank of elevators comes into view. “Oh, wait—yeah! Huh. Weird. I didn’t expect the doors to be orange.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Each floor’s color-coordinated, yeah. Orange means you’re near the bottom, though. Didn’t you see the guest parking on the first floor?”

You blink. “No, I don’t think so. Did I miss something?”

That draws another chuckle from him. “Probably. There’s a row of spaces off to the right as soon as you enter the garage, but it can be pretty easy to miss if you don’t know to look for it. I should’ve given you a heads-up.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him as you enter the elevator and hit the button for the thirty-fourth floor. “I could’ve asked.”

Bidding him farewell and assuring that you’ll see him soon, you hang up and tuck your phone back into your pocket. The elevator ride is relatively short despite how high you’re going, and before you know it you find yourself standing in front of a navy blue door with a polished brass knocker. Raising your hand, you’re about to knock when the door flies open, revealing Daeun and Trixie standing there with identical grins.

“You’re finally here!” your daughter exclaims, bounding forward to take you by the hand and lead you inside. “Mr. Jeon said we had to wait for you to get here. He says he’s gonna give us a grand tour!”

“It’s really not as exciting as they’re making it sound.” Jungkook’s voice comes from around the corner, and the man himself steps into view a moment later. He’s taken off his jacket and removed his tie, leaving him in navy slacks and a crisp white shirt with the first few buttons undone. Your gaze lingers a little too long on this newly exposed sliver of chest, but you forcibly tear your gaze away when Trixie gives your hand a squeeze.

“Come on, Mom! You can see everything from the window. It’s like you’re on top of a mountain!”

Laughing, you follow your daughter deeper into the apartment. She points to the closet off the foyer, where you obligingly hang up your coat next to her periwinkle one. Then she leads you to the far end of the foyer, where it opens into a wide hallway. On the other side of the hall is an archway that leads to a spacious kitchen with white cabinets and polished granite countertops. You take note of the bright yellow bar stools at the kitchen island, chuckling when Daeun loudly declares that she picked them out—and that Jungkook had caved to her despite wanting boring gray ones instead.

As you continue your tour, it becomes abundantly clear that Jungkook has caved to his daughter on multiple occasions. The furniture in the living area is neutral—shades of beige and dark wood that pair well with the polished floorboards and modern floor-to-ceiling windows. But scattered throughout the space are pops of color and quirkiness that you can confidently attribute to Daeun—having graded several of the art pieces that you now see hanging on the wall and adorning the sleek glass coffee table. There’s the lopsided clay vase painted with streaks of hot pink and specks of bright yellow, and there’s the papier-mâché snowman with his jaunty orange hat. You see more and more of Daeun’s influence everywhere you look—the watercolor butterfly paintings on the wall, and the red floral accent chair that you’re sure Jungkook didn’t pick out himself.

“That’s Daddy’s room,” Daeun says, pointing to a nondescript white door beside the bookshelves that flank the flatscreen TV hanging on the wall. Then she points down the hall, past the kitchen where you can see a few more doors. “And that’s my room down there, next to Daddy’s office. Do you want to see?”

You nod. “I can’t wait. Lead the way.”

Cheerfully, Daeun gestures for you to follow after her as she skips toward the door at the very end of the hall. She opens it with a flourish, allowing all of you inside, and as soon as you step past the threshold you’re transported to a fantastical world. Daeun’s bedroom walls are painted to resemble an enchanted forest, complete with delicate fairy lights wrapped around the wooden four-poster bed. A white desk and an accompanying green chair sit in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, the pale pink curtains opened to let sunlight stream in. Along the sill is a collection of stuffed animals, ranging from a tiny butterfly to an elephant that you’re pretty sure is taller than Daeun herself. Opposite the bed is a gallery wall, composed of colorful floral prints and Daeun’s own art—a charming, eclectic mix of animal paintings and landscapes. It’s the kind of bedroom that you would’ve loved as a child, and your daughter is equally taken with it if her awed expression is anything to go by.

“This is so cool!” Trixie runs to the window to peer out at the city below, before twirling in a circle to take in the art on the walls. “I can’t believe you live here. It’s like a magic forest!”

“It’s a beautiful room,” you remark, nodding your agreement. “And all of these drawings are amazing, Daeun. You’re a talented artist.”

Daeun flushes at the compliment, thanking you with a shy smile. Then she and Trixie are off again, speeding down the hallway to look at something else in the apartment. You and Jungkook trail after them slowly, until he opens another door off the hall to reveal his office. It’s smaller than Daeun’s bedroom and far more simplistic in its decor, but it’s a cozy and inviting space nonetheless. One wall is lined with mahogany bookshelves, and a polished wooden desk is pushed against the opposite. A plush burgundy armchair with a matching ottoman sits in the corner beside a tall potted plant, creating the perfect space for reading, and you can tell from the indentation in the seat cushion that it’s been well-loved over the years.

“I’ve definitely been bringing my work home too much lately,” Jungkook admits. “I’ve been cutting back though. Ever since Daeun’s behavioral problems…” He trails off. “Well, you know all about that already. And I do want to apologize for giving you a hard time. It’s just… I guess it’s not all that fun being told that you’re failing as a parent.”

“You’re not failing as a parent,” you reply, laying a hand on his arm before you can think to stop yourself. “You’re doing your best. It’s all we can do, isn’t it? Do everything we possibly can for our children?”

He nods, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s looking down at your hand on his arm, and you blanch inwardly as you quickly pull back and pretend to brush invisible dirt off your skirt. “We should go find the girls,” you murmur. And just like that, the tour is over.

The two of you rejoin the girls in the kitchen, where they’ve begun assembling themselves a snack of peanut butter and crackers. Jungkook slices up an apple and a banana for them to share, and they barely take the time to thank him before disappearing into Daeun’s bedroom to work on their project. You and Jungkook find yourselves alone in the kitchen, and when the silence between you has stretched on for just long enough to be awkward, you decide to speak. “So. I guess I should probably grade some homework while I’m here.”

Jungkook blinks and shakes his head a little, as if coming out of a trance. “Right, of course. I’ve got a few things I need to wrap up myself. Please, make yourself comfortable. You’re free to work in the office, if you’d like.”

Immediately, you shake your head. “Oh, no. I don’t want to intrude.”

He nods, then gestures out toward the dining table, which sits in a little nook between the main living area and kitchen. “Well then, feel free to make use of the table. Or the kitchen island. Or even the couch, if you’d prefer.” He pauses. “Wait, where are my manners? I haven’t even offered you anything to drink! Did you want anything?”

“Oh.” You hesitate. “I’m okay.”

Jungkook begins making his way to the refrigerator, regardless. “Seriously, it’s no trouble. I have coffee, tea, banana milk, and I think there’s probably a carton of apple juice in here too. What do you usually drink when you’re grading?”

“Tea,” you admit. “Any kind. I’m not picky.”

“Tea it is.” Jungkook sets about grabbing two mugs. “Go on, make yourself comfortable. I’ll bring it to you.”

For a moment, you wonder if you should ask if he needs help. But he’s already preoccupied with the kettle, his back to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from the way his broad shoulders taper into his slim waist. In an attempt to distract yourself from gawking, you walk back out to the dining table. Pulling out a chair, you settle your bag on the floor beside you and take a seat. And by the time Jungkook comes out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs of tea, you’re already halfway through grading the first math worksheet in your pile.

“Here you go.” Jungkook places a mug by your elbow, and you glance up at him with a grateful smile.

“Thanks.” “No problem.”

To your surprise, he takes his mug to the opposite side of the table and sets it down. Then he disappears into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with his laptop in hand. You try not to stare as he sets up shop across from you, a loose lock of dark hair flopping across his forehead as he logs in and begins reading something, his dark eyes flitting across the screen. His piercing in his eyebrow glints in the sunlight streaming in through the nearby window.

Ripping your gaze away, you force yourself to focus on the homework you need to grade. And after a few minutes, you’re fully immersed, thumbing through sheet after sheet and writing down your notes.

Before you even realize it, two hours have passed. You only become aware of how late it’s getting when Jungkook shuts his laptop with a click, stretching his arms overhead and working a few kinks out of his neck. “It’s almost dinnertime,” he remarks, glancing out the window where the sun is steadily dropping closer to the horizon. “Did you have any thoughts about dinner? I can order some pizza or something.”

“Oh, I don’t think—” you begin to protest, but Daeun and Trixie choose that moment to dash in like mini tornadoes, whirling around the dining table.

“We can still order takeout for dinner, right Daddy?” Daeun gazes up at Jungkook with pleading eyes, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “And Trixie and Miss {L/N} can stay if we do, right?”

Trixie looks at you, lower lip already beginning to jut out in a pout. “Please, Mom?”

Jungkook gives you a meaningful glance across the table, and you can only shrug and relent. “Yeah, all right. Since takeout was already promised, we can stay for dinner. But we’re going home after that, okay? It’s a school night.”

The girls burst into cheers. After a brief discussion on what kind of food to order, you all settle on Jungkook’s initial suggestion of pizza. As he puts in the order, you begin tidying up the dining table, clearing it of your graded homework. Daeun points out where the plates are kept, and together, you and the girls set the table for dinner.

“Estimated delivery time is half an hour,” Jungkook says as he tucks his phone back into his pocket and joins you at the dining table. “What should we do while we wait?”

“Let’s play Candyland!” Daeun exclaims.

Trixie gasps. “I love Candyland!”

And just like that, it’s settled. The four of you settle around the coffee table for the game—you and Jungkook making yourselves comfortable on the cream-colored sectional while the girls sprawl out on the shaggy rug on the floor. The pizza arrives just as Trixie reaches Candy Castle, and Jungkook goes to answer the door while she celebrates her victory. Then, the four of you sit down for dinner.

It’s strange, sitting in Jungkook’s undoubtedly expensive apartment and eating pizza. But even more strange is how okay it all feels—natural, even. You aren’t sure when you became so comfortable in his presence, but you aren’t about to question it. You’re grateful for the lack of awkwardness.

An hour later, the last slice of pizza is finished. You volunteer to do the dishes, and Jungkook clears the table while you take up residence at the sink. You’ve tasked Trixie with gathering up her things so you can depart after you’ve finished in the kitchen, and can hear her giggling off in the distance with Daeun. “Thanks for hosting us today,” you murmur to Jungkook.

He chuckles, waving off your gratitude. “It’s no problem, seriously. I had a good time.”

You smile at him before returning to the dishes. Just as you’re putting away the last plate, the girls run back into the kitchen—Trixie with her backpack in tow.

“Can Daeun come to our house next time?” she asks, and you laugh.

“Sure, jitterbug. You’re welcome to come over whenever you’d like, Daeun.”

And with that, you and Trixie say your final goodbyes. You slip back into your shoes and grab your coats from the closet. Jungkook gives you directions for the easiest route out of the parking garage, and you thank him for what feels like the umpteenth time.

You’re barely listening to your daughter’s ramblings as you climb into the driver’s seat and turn on the ignition. All you can think about is Jungkook and this strange, newfound warmth that stirs in your belly whenever he seeps into your thoughts.

///

“You wiped that part of the counter already.”

Trixie’s voice barely registers in your mind, but the washcloth in your hand slows nonetheless. It’s a beautiful Saturday morning with hardly a cloud in the sky, and Jungkook and Daeun are due to arrive any minute. You’ve been cleaning for the past hour, and even though you know you’ve already gone through the kitchen, you can’t help yourself. This is the first time Jungkook will be seeing your humble abode, and you—ostensibly—want to impress.

“Bug, can you set the table?”

Trixie sighs dramatically, but complies nonetheless. Grabbing four plates, she places them down carefully before returning for four glasses. You join her at the table with a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, straightening out one of the striped blue placemats as you set it down beside the vase of flowers that serves as a centerpiece.

You’ve just started frying bacon when the doorbell rings. “Got it!” Trixie calls, darting to the door, and you listen as she enthusiastically greets your guests. A few seconds later, Jungkook rounds the corner with both girls, decked out in jeans and a gray cable-knit sweather and carrying a plain white cardboard box in his hands.

Curiously, you tilt your head. “Mysterious box you’ve got there.”

He laughs. “Hello to you too.” Then he puts the box down and pops open the lid. “I brought my favorite bagels—I hope that’s okay. Didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

You smile at him. “Of course it’s okay. I was just planning on making some toast, but bagels are way be…” You trail off as the bagels in question come into your view.

Perfectly golden, with a dusting of cinnamon sugar and streusel crumbles on top. You’d recognize them anywhere.

“{Name}?” Jungkook sounds concerned. “Are you all right?”

You blink and shake your head, mind still whirring. “Are these from that coffee shop downtown? Bean There, Done That?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, have you been?”

You nod. “This… this might sound crazy and I might be way off base. But do you stop there every morning for a bagel?”

Jungkook blinks. Then he blinks again, his lips parting wordlessly. A beat passes, and then another. “Wait,” he finally manages, his voice a croak. “Hang on. Is it… I mean, it can’t be… can it?”

You reach into the drawer next to the stovetop and pull out a wad of pen-stained napkins. “Did you leave me these?”

For a few seconds, it seems like Jungkook can only gape at you. “Holy shit,” he finally breathes, before slapping a hand to his mouth with wide eyes and glancing around to make sure the girls aren’t within earshot. “I was leaving you notes this whole time?”

You can only laugh in disbelief. “You were the one taking my cinnamon streusel bagels?”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have taken them if you’d gotten there earlier,” he teases. Chuckling, he picks up a napkin note and uncrumples it, scanning across the text. “Damn. Small world, huh?”

“The smallest,” you agree, mind reeling from this new development. Still chuckling, Jungkook steps past you to get to the stove, and you belatedly remember that the bacon is still sizzling in the pan as he picks up your tongs and carefully flips each strip.

“I kept your notes too,” he says after a moment. “I shoved both of them in my glovebox.”

You huff. “Both. Yeah, okay, you beat me to the last bagel way more than I beat you. You don’t have to rub it in, Jungkook.”

“Oh, come on.” He grins, toothy and bright, and you’re momentarily distracted by the endearing prominence of his teeth. “I think I have to rub it in a little.”

“Hmph. As long as it’s only a little,” you concede as you join him at the stove with another pan and begin scrambling eggs. Together, the two of you finish making breakfast, piling eggs onto one plate and bacon on another. You grab the bowl of fruit salad you’d prepared last night out of the fridge, and Jungkook grabs the box of bagels and calls for Daeun and Trixie to come eat. Then, he surprises you by sitting beside you, leaving the girls to sit next to each other on the opposite side of the table.

Breakfast is a relaxed affair—even if Taco keeps trying to jump up on the table to steal some bacon. You’ve eaten several meals with Jungkook and Daeun since that first dinner—usually at Jungkook’s apartment, but also once at the food court in your local natural history museum, where you took the girls to see the ocean exhibit’s penguin display. Since this is the final weekend before their group project is due on Monday, you’ve promised to take them to the zoo to see real, live penguins and complete the last of their research. Both girls already have their backpacks packed and ready to go, and you task Jungkook with checking to make sure they have all their notes while you clean up in the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, you’re on your way to the zoo. Jungkook has volunteered to drive, and you can’t help but gape a little as he unlocks his sleek black Mercedes-Benz and opens up the passenger door to reveal cream-colored leather seats and shiny silver hardware. “Wow,” you remark, catching his eye as he walks around to the driver’s side. “This is like the Batmobile or something.”

“Hardly,” he says with a laugh. “I wish I had rocket boosters and ejection seats. That’d be cool as hell.”

“Daddy!” Daeun gasps, scandalized. “That’s a bad word!”

Jungkook has the decency to look properly abashed. “I’ll put a dollar in the swear jar when we get home,” he promises before pretending to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key. Satisfied, Daeun clambers into the backseat with Trixie on her heels, and Jungkook shoots you a conspiratorial little wink as he takes his own seat and starts up the engine.

The drive to the zoo takes only about fifteen minutes. It’s already beginning to get crowded by the time you get there, but Jungkook still manages to find parking with little difficulty. Together, the two of you usher your daughters out of the car, reminding them not to run too far ahead when they immediately make a beeline for the entrance.

After a short wait in line to buy tickets, you finally make your way past the lion statues flanking the front gate. The wide concrete pathway leads to an open plaza where people are milling about—some looking at the directory located at the far end while others rely on the colorful signpost in the center, reading through the various directional arrows before heading off to their destination. Along the edges of the plaza are a multitude of stalls—selling everything from footlong hot dogs to stuffed animals to cotton candy. There’s a couple of artists painting faces, too, and Daeun only has to give Jungkook one wide-eyed, pleading look before he caves and pulls out his wallet. Aghast, you try to protest, but he waves you off and sends them both off with some cash in hand.

“Consider it payment for all the bagels I’ve deprived you of,” he says, and you relent with a laugh.

Slowly, the two of you make your way around the plaza, making sure to keep a watchful eye on the girls at all times. Half an hour later, Trixie and Daeun come skipping back your way, their faces bright with colorful paint. Daeun has an intricate pink and blue butterfly, while Trixie has opted for the distinctive orange and black stripes of a tiger.

“Do you like it?” she asks, and you nod, bopping her fondly on her painted black nose.

“I don’t just like it, jitterbug. I love it.”

Pleased, she rejoins Daeun, who has successfully diverted Jungkook to the cotton candy stand. Following after her, you hand the vendor your credit card to pay for both snacks before Jungkook can get a word in edgewise. Reluctantly, he tucks his wallet away, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.

Once the girls have had their fill of the main plaza, the four of you head off in the direction of the penguin exhibit, stopping to look at the zebras and giraffes along the way. Photographs are snapped, and Trixie even flags down a nearby couple and asks them to take a photo of all four of you together. The girls jostle into place in front of the giraffe enclosure, and you suddenly find yourself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jungkook, the warmth of his body radiating off of him like the sun in the sky. Your resulting smile feels forced—especially when the girl starts taking multiple photos from different angles—but gradually relaxes. And now, even as you enter the penguin exhibit, you can’t stop sneaking glances at the last photo.

Because in it, you and Jungkook look like couple. You’re standing close enough that anyone who saw it would construe it as a family photo, the two of you beaming with your giggling daughters in front of you, their arms draped over each other’s shoulders.

Swallowing, you let your phone screen go dark and tuck it back into your pocket. You’re coming up on the penguin exhibit now, and the girls can barely contain their excitement as they run ahead to the outermost edge of the enclosure where a massive glass wall allows for a clear view of the penguins swimming about underwater.

“They’re so fast!” Trixie exclaims. She stops at one of the numerous placards lining the glass wall, her little face scrunching as she slowly reads it out loud to Daeun. “It says here some can swim over twenty miles an hour!”

As the girls pull out their notebooks and begin taking notes, you and Jungkook find an unoccupied bench near a rocky outcrop occupied by several bronze penguin statues. “Look,” Jungkook says, patting one of the upright penguins. “You can see how many people have rubbed this little guy’s head. It’s turned gold.”

“Must be good luck,” you remark, running a finger along the golden beak of another penguin. “Or maybe I should make a wish? I don’t really know what this situation calls for.”

“I’m pretty sure you make wishes when you throw a coin into a fountain,” your companion replies, brushing a dark strand of hair off his forehead. “Actually, I think I saw a fountain back there. Should we check it out later?”

“I don’t think I have any change on me,” you reply, peeking into your purse to make sure. “Seriously, who even carries coins anymore?”

“Not me,” Jungkook agrees. “I do usually have at least a little cash on me, though. It’s nice to have sometimes.”

“Mm, yeah. You never know when you’ll need it.”

Just then, Trixie and Daeun run up, gesturing toward the brown building at the very back of the enclosure. “There’s a penguin movie playing over there!” Daeun says. “Can we go see it?”

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “How long is it?”

“I think it runs every twenty minutes,” you reply when Daeun frowns and scratches her head. “Come on. If I’m remembering correctly, we should be able to see more penguins inside too.”

Daeun and Trixie beam. “Cool!” they exclaim in unison, before galloping off and leaving you and Jungkook to follow after them as quickly as you can manage without breaking into a run yourselves.

Your memory proves correct, as you enter the brown building and immediately see that the walls inside are glass as well. A penguin dives off of a rocky island and into the clear blue water, and you watch as it goes all the way to the bottom of the pool before coming back up for air.

After doing a lap of the building, Daeun and Trixie decide to go into the theater to see the fifteen-minute short film. Meanwhile, you and Jungkook find a quiet little alcove near the entrance, chatting softly while watching the penguins behind the glass on the opposite wall.

“I haven’t been to the zoo in ages,” Jungkook admits. “Dae’s mom used to always take her, though. They always came back with a stuffed animal from the gift shop—you might’ve seen them in Daeun’s room, actually. She loves them.”

You nod. “I remember, yeah. It’s quite an impressive collection.” Then you hesitate, gnawing on your bottom lip as you consider your next words and debate whether you’re being too nosy. “Daeun’s mom… can I ask what happened between you?” You pause, then quickly speak again. “And feel free to say no, obviously! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m probably just poking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Jungkook smiles at you, but there’s a faraway quality to his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Nah, it’s okay. There’s really not much to tell, if I’m honest. Evelyn and I, we started dating when we were nineteen. We got married at twenty-three, had Daeun a couple years later, and then one day we realized that we’d become entirely different people and that we weren’t really in love anymore.”

“Oh.” You aren’t sure what else to say. “I-I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs and sighs, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “No need to be sorry; it was a mutual thing. Totally amicable. We’re still friends, and we’re a pretty kickass co-parenting team too.”

The conversation continues, and you find out that Evelyn’s job took her overseas last year. According to Jungkook, she currently lives with her new boyfriend, who’s a little pretentious but completely harmless. And despite the six-hour time difference, Evelyn still finds the time to FaceTime Jungkook and Daeun every Sunday afternoon. Because of those calls, she’s apparently heard all about you, too—you’re her favorite teacher, remember? he’d said with a laugh.

“What about you, then?” Jungkook glances over at you inquiringly, his eyebrows raised. “Is it my turn to pry?”

You can tell from the melodious lilt in his tone that he’s teasing. “My story’s far less interesting than yours,” you answer, fiddling with a stray thread on your jacket sleeve. “I don’t have an ex-partner or anything like that. I’ve just always wanted to be a mother, so one day I decided that I was going to do it. I used a donor, got pregnant, and here we are.”

Jungkook takes this in slowly, nodding. “Do you… I mean, do you know who your donor is? Have you met him?”

You shake your head. “No, it was an anonymous thing. I got a profile and some information about his appearance and hobbies and stuff, but not much beyond that.”

“I—” Jungkook begins, before trailing off. “I’m sorry. I’m asking too many questions. I don’t know a whole lot about the sperm donor thing, but I’m glad it worked out for you. Trixie’s an amazing kid.”

“She is,” you murmur. “I love her more than anything.”

“And you’re an amazing mom.” Jungkook’s voice grows softer, and when you turn to look at him, he seems closer than he was before. “I don’t know how you manage it all, teaching and parenting. But you do, and it’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

You aren’t sure who leans in first. All you know is that one moment, you’re staring into Jungkook’s earnest brown eyes, and then in the next, you’re kissing him.

It starts soft. Cautious, even. His lips press against yours gently, once, before he pulls back for a breath. You can feel him exhale, the warmth fanning your cheeks. And then you pull him back in by his collar, fisting one hand in the knit material and finding the soft hair at his nape with the other.

Time slows to a standstill. Jungkook groans against your lips, and you feel the way it rumbles through his chest, the sensation sinking into your skin and settling straight in your core. His hands find your hips, and you wind both arms around his neck to pull him closer.

And then, just as suddenly as it had stopped, time starts ticking again. Reality crashes down around you in the form of familiar, boisterous voices rapidly heading your way. You and Jungkook only barely manage to untangle yourselves before Trixie and Daeun round the corner of the alcove, chattering excitedly about all the new penguin facts they’ve learned.

“Can we go to the petting zoo next?” Trixie asks, seemingly oblivious to your lingering embarrassment at nearly being caught.

Awkwardly, you clear your throat. At your side, Jungkook is faring no better, shuffling his feet and refusing to make eye contact. “Yeah, sure, bug,” you finally manage when you find your voice again. “Lead the way.”

///

Monday dawns cloudy and gray. The weather app on your phone promises thunderstorms later in the afternoon, but that isn’t enough to dampen your mood one bit. Instead, you thumb back over to your messages, your heart skipping a beat when you see the text still sitting at the very top.

[6:54am] Jungkook Jeon: Make sure to stop by bean there, done that before school. Left you a surprise ;)

Taking a deep breath, you type out a response:

[6:56am] You: I’m a little scared. Should I be scared?

His answer comes in immediately. Nah. It’s a good surprise, I promise.

[6:58am] You: Sure it is… 🤨

Biting back a grin, you tuck your phone into your bag and head toward the front door of your apartment, nearly tripping over Taco along the way, who has chosen that moment to start slinking between your legs.

“Really, Taco?” you ask the unperturbed calico cat at your feet. “What if I fell and cracked my head open? Who would feed you then, huh?”

As usual, Taco merely gives you an unimpressed look before flicking her tail and wandering off. Sighing, you call for Trixie to hurry up before turning to check your appearance in the mirror leaning against the wall of the entryway. It’s a large, vintage piece—a gold-framed, flea market find that you treasure dearly and swear makes you look good no matter how awful you might feel.

Satisfied, you hike your bag higher on your shoulder and smooth down the lapels of your coat. Trixie rounds the corner and gives herself a quick once-over too, and you give her a thumbs-up. “Ready, bug?”

“Yup!” she replies, tightening her grip on her and Daeun’s project—a carefully constructed shoebox diorama that shows a group of penguins in their natural icy habitat.

“Let’s go, then.” Opening the front door, you let her through before locking it up behind you. Together, you head out to the car, and Trixie ensures that her diorama is completely secured in the seat beside her while you check your mirrors and turn on the ignition.

The drive to Bean There, Done That! takes only about ten minutes. Jin waves cheerily when he spots you walking up to the counter, but his face positively lights up when he sees Trixie is with you. He absolutely adores your daughter—Trixie loves him too—and on the occasional instance you’ve had to call on him to babysit, the two of them always end up stuffed with food on the couch and giggling over bad puns.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” Jin asks, directing the question at Trixie, who beams at him before turning to look at you with pleading eyes.

“Can I have a double chocolate cookie?”

“That… actually sounds really good,” you admit. “Make that two. And Jin, did someone leave something here for me earlier?”

Jin grins. “Thought you’d never ask. This here is from one Mr. Jungkook Jeon.” Reaching beneath the counter, he pulls out a box and watches as you open the lid to reveal half a dozen cinnamon streusel bagels with a neatly folded napkin on top. Unfolding it, you can only laugh at the words written on it:

Hope you have a mug-nificient day!

“Just so you know, he stole that line from me,” Jin says with a sniff. “I’m not letting him take the credit.”

“Duly noted,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide your smile as you look down at the note again. After a couple beats, Jin clears his throat, and you glance up to see that he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Sooo,” he begins slowly, dragging out the single syllable, “I imagine you want a fresh napkin and a pen, unless… are you going to see Mr. Jungkook Jeon at some point?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance as best you can. “Trixie was paired with his daughter for a school project, so we’ve been meeting up for the past few weeks so they can work on it. Now that that’s over with… I don’t really know. We’re both pretty busy.”

Jin scoffs. “That’s a lame excuse, especially since he’s clearly flirting with you. And—”

Unfortunately, Trixie interrupts before he can finish his sentence, skipping back over from where she had been examining the pastry display cases along the wall. “Can I have a lemon bar?”

You fix her with a stern look. “You already asked for the double chocolate cookie, remember? The lemon bars can wait until next time.” Then you turn back to Jin, reaching into your bag for your wallet. “We should probably get to school, anyhow. What do I owe you?”

“Not a thing,” he replies, handing over a paper bag with your cookies and a bottle of apple juice. “It’s already been taken care of.”

From the wink he sends your way, you know that it must have been Jungkook who doled out the extra cash for your breakfast. “Thanks, Jin,” you reply, handing Trixie the cookies and juice before accepting the cup of coffee he hands over. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Pleasure doing business with ya,” is his response. Trixie waves goodbye, and together, the two of you head back out to the car. It’s started drizzling since you arrived, and you thank your lucky stars that you’d managed to snag a parking spot right up front.

Your daughter seems to be deep in thought as you help her buckle her seatbelt, her lips pursed in concentration. Then, out of nowhere, she asks:

“Do you like Mr. Jeon?”

You nearly choke. “W-what?”

“Mr. Jeon,” she repeats patiently, and you’re thankful that she’s not looking at you—instead, she’s focused on the raindrops splashing against the window and racing each other down the glass. “You spent a bunch of time with him when Daeun and I were doing school stuff. What’d you do?”

“Adult stuff,” you reply, before cursing inwardly at the potential implication behind your words. “Mostly, I spent my time grading homework. And he had some things to do for work, too.”

Trixie hums, apparently satisfied with this answer. “He’s nice,” she declares. “He buys us food and he has a cool house.”

“Sure,” you agree. “He’s a very nice man.”

And with that settled, you finish buckling her in her seat. Shutting the back door, you suck in a deep, calming breath before circling around to the driver’s side and setting off on the familiar route to Hybe Academy.

///

“... Miss {L/N}, are you listening?”

You blink and sit up a little straighter in your chair. “Yes, of course. Please go on.” Hastily, you scribble down a few random words, hoping that will placate the parent sitting across from you. It’s parent-teacher conference week—and you’re beyond grateful that it’s Friday night as Mrs. Greene rambles on and on about how the school isn’t doing enough for her precious baby boy. She’s talking about how the school day should be extended now—or at least how teachers should watch after the children whose parents can’t pick them up right at three-thirty. I don’t understand why it’s so difficult to understand. I mean, my husband is a very busy man, and I have my own business to run. I can’t be expected to drop everything in the middle of a client meeting to come pick Derrick up…

It takes everything in you not to snap at her. You know for a fact that her “business” is selling bejeweled keychains on Etsy—and that they’re incredibly poorly made, if the reviews are anything to go by. Instead, you bite your tongue—hard enough to taste metal—and remind her that the school’s operating hours are not for you to decide.

After what feels like an eternity, the clock strikes seven, marking the end of her reserved time block. Standing up, you shake her hand and wish her a pleasant evening before opening your planner and checking to see if you have any more meetings. Your parents have Trixie for the night and there’s a bottle of wine on your kitchen counter calling your name, and you cannot wait to get home and relax in the bath with a glass. Maybe, you think, I’ll even do a face mask.

The final name written in your planner stops you in your tracks. You haven’t seen him in over a week—not since that Monday when he left you half a dozen bagels at the coffee shop. The girls had insisted on meeting up that evening to celebrate turning their project in, so you’d all gone to a popular taco joint.

And then there’s a knock on your door, the three raps pulling you right out of your musings.

Silhouetted there in the doorframe is Jungkook Jeon, decked out in a polished charcoal suit and wearing a smile that makes your insides lurch dangerously in your chest. His dark hair is parted on the side, and you catch the slightest glimpse of his brow piercing glinting behind the hair that’s loose across his forehead. “Hi,” he says, his voice low, and you have to remind yourself that it’s impolite to stare as you find your voice.

“Hi yourself.”

He grins, baring the adorably prominent front teeth that you hate to admit you’ve grown rather fond of. “You look like you weren’t expecting me.”

“Oh, no. I just wasn’t expecting you on time,” you retort, gesturing to the plastic chair sitting across from your desk. “Your track record is questionable, at best.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Yeah, sorry about that. I made sure to leave plenty early this time, just in case I ran into traffic. Or if Bobby decided to corner me in the elevator again—that guy really doesn’t know when to shut up.” He pauses. “Wait, I told you about him, right? Works on the development team, owns one singular tie? Balding but tries to hide it with a bad combover?”

“That rings a bell,” you reply. “The tie is red and Christmas-themed, right?”

“Sure is.” Jungkook chuckles. “I thought they might’ve been polka dots the first time I met him, but nope. Christmas ornaments, even in the middle of July.”

You laugh. “Odd fashion choice.”

“Seriously. Don’t even get me started on the rest of his clothes,” Jungkook says, shaking his head. “Here, let’s change the subject. Have you eaten yet?”

You gesture around your classroom, artificially lit with fluorescent light even as the sun begins to dip closer to the horizon. “Nope. I mean, I had about twenty minutes between the end of the school day and the start of my first meeting, so I scarfed down an apple in the break room. But that was hours ago.”

“Perfect.” At your look of disbelief, he chortles and quickly amends his phrasing. “Sorry, I just mean that I’ve got you covered. Here, look.” And he begins pulling things out of a paper bag that you hadn’t noticed him carrying before. Crackers, sliced baguette, an assortment of cured meats and cheeses, grapes. He produces a bottle of wine next, and you very nearly start clapping.

The last thing he pulls out is a single red rose, his smile soft and warm and dizzyingly affectionate as he presents it to you. “I—wow.” You aren’t sure what to say. “Thank you. I… I feel like I should’ve prepared something. Stolen an apple for you from the teacher’s lounge, at least.”

Jungkook snorts. “Well, here’s something you can help me out with. I don’t actually have glasses for the wine. Totally spaced and forgot that we’d need them. Any ideas?”

You’re on your feet before he can even finish asking. “I teach elementary schoolers, Mr. Jeon. I always have cups.”

Making your way to the cabinet by the window, you grab a box of little paper cups and pull out two. Jungkook accepts them when you hand them over, and you watch as he unscrews the cap on the wine bottle before pouring out two generous helpings. Together, you lay out the food he’s brought, spreading it across whatever empty space there is on your desk. “Cheers,” Jungkook says once you’ve both taken your seats again, raising his paper cup to tap against yours.

“Cheers.”

For a moment, there is silence as you both take a drink. Then Jungkook speaks, glancing up at you as he carefully begins crafting himself a mini salami and cheese sandwich. “So, where does Trixie stay while you’re doing all these meetings? Do your parents have her?”

You nod, taking another much-needed sip of wine. “Yeah, my mom picked her up after school. They actually have her until Sunday—my dad’s going to teach her how to fish tomorrow, and then I think they’re going to build a pillow fort.”

Jungkook chuckles around a mouthful of gouda. “I love a good pillow fort. Dae insists on building one at least once a week, and at this point, I’m honestly surprised there isn’t one permanently in her bedroom.”

Grinning, you reach for a cracker and some cheese. “Taco manages to destroy every pillow fort Trixie and I try to make. She either decides it’s a trampoline, or that it’s a good time to start scratching everything she can reach. We can’t win.”

“Sounds like you need better defenses,” Jungkook replies, waggling his eyebrows. “That, or you can come over whenever you need a pillow fort fix. I’m sure Dae and Trixie would create something truly epic together. I mean, that penguin diorama was pretty fucking cool, wasn’t it?”

“Very fucking cool,” you agree, and both of you burst into laughter.

Deep blue twilight settles outside as the two of you continue chatting over your makeshift meal. The cheese begins to dwindle, only a few lonely grapes remain on their stems, and when you go to top of your wine, you realize there’s less than a quarter of the bottle left.

“Wow, we really put a dent in this thing,” you remark, holding it out for Jungkook to see. “And it’s already dark out. The time kind of got away from us, huh?”

“You won’t catch me complaining,” Jungkook replies, tipping the last of his drink into his mouth. “I’m enjoying spending time with you.”

You can’t help but smile at his earnest honesty. “Me too.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then you rise from your seat. At the same time, Jungkook stands up from his chair on the other side of the desk, making his way around to meet you halfway. And then his mouth is on yours, warm and firm in a way that makes your heart do a backflip before plunking straight into your churning stomach.

Jungkook’s hands find your hips, palming along the flowy material of your dress before finding a resting place just above the soft curve of your rear. Your fingers delve into the soft hair at his nape to tug him closer, and he groans against your lips when your nails rake across his scalp. Slowly, he begins trailing kisses from the line of your jaw down to the column of your neck, pausing to lavish attention on any spots that make you gasp or squirm in his grasp.

The growing hardness against your lower belly is growing more and more evident with each passing second. Deliberately, you slide one hand down his chest, admiring the toned ridges of his abdomen that you can feel through his white shirt, before making your way down past his silver belt buckle. Jungkook inhales sharply when you cup his hardening cock through the charcoal material of his slacks, and, emboldened, you thumb across the head and relish in his resulting groan.

Any caution you may have had is thrown to the wind. Adjusting your grip, you shiver when you realize that he’s now fully hard beneath your fingertips, his erection thick and hot through the fabric. You try and visualize what it looks like underneath it all—the color of the flared head, the veins that run along it, the curve of the shaft, if there is one. And then you realize that you don’t have to imagine—you can look. You can rip his clothes off and explore every inch of his body in the way you’ve been itching to since you first kissed at the zoo last week. Your hands scrabble for his belt buckle, fumbling with the silver prong embedded in its notch.

“W-wait.” Jungkook’s hand lands over yours, and you note the breathlessness in his voice with satisfaction. “I… this is probably cheesy, but this isn’t how I pictured this happening. Not that I don’t like what’s happening, but I just… I’d like to take you out first. On a proper date, I mean. Without our girls in the next room, or down the hall, or in the museum playplace wreaking havoc.”

“That does sound nice,” you admit. “Actually, I’d really enjoy that. I haven’t been on a proper date in years.”

“Let’s do it, then,” Jungkook says. “My babysitter’s already been paid to watch Daeun until midnight, and your parents have Trixie. This is kinda perfect.”

You can’t help it—you drag your thumb across the head of his still-hard cock again and revel in the way his breath hitches just a little bit in his throat. “Midnight?” you query with an innocent tilt of your head. “Were you expecting something to happen tonight?”

“Hoping,” he replies with a cheeky grin. “And wait, let me ask you out properly. It just wouldn’t feel right otherwise.”

Confused, you let him stand from his seat and slip around you to retrieve the paper bag on the ground. Understanding dawns when he reaches inside and grabs a napkin, and you watch on in amusement as he takes a pen from the cup on your desk and begins writing. And after a few seconds, he wordlessly presents this to you:

Drinks? Dinner? Maybe dessert? ;)

And you can only laugh. “Game on, mister.”

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #bts #bts smut #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fic #jeon jungkook #kpop scenarios #single parent au #teacher au #single parent!au #teacher!au #lia writes

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pascaloverx · 23 days

Text

OUR SECRET — MYG

chapter seven

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: This fanfic will contain inappropriate language and intimate moments between some characters. Be warned. I will let you know if anything becomes inappropriate. Please enjoy this Yoongi fanfic.

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To marry without love must be terrible. To marry with love seems better, but everything depends on the conditions in which one gets married. If you're stressed because you're about to give birth to an unplanned daughter with a love that no longer serves you, and a fake marriage is your only solution, marrying seems like hell. Unfortunately, you're discovering this the hard way. At least you and your daughter are doing well health-wise. Namjoon and Jin keep checking in to make sure you're taking care of yourself, while Hoseok and the younger ones try to help with the marriage. The fans of the group that your daughter's father is a part of have surprisingly accepted well the fact that you're pregnant with Yoongi and that you're getting married. Everyone bought into the story of marrying out of love and the pregnancy being the result of a cute hidden formal relationship. The wedding with Yoongi was quick and without much fuss. Your belly is too big, time is short so a short wedding was perfect.

"I think this is the last box. Who knew I'd be moving into your house, pregnant with your baby and married to you. It doesn't feel real." You say organizing your last moving box while Yoongi organizes the baby's room.

"I finished setting up our daughter's room. I think it looks nice..." Yoongi comments as he watches you organize the rest of the clothes in the wardrobe.

"Can we talk for a bit?" You ask, sitting down on the corner of Yoongi's bed, which will soon be your bed together.

"We've barely been married, and we're already going to have a serious conversation?" Yoongi tries to be funny, but you look at him somewhat indifferent.

"I think some things need to be talked about. We're almost at a stage where another human being will depend exclusively on us. I think it's important that you know you'll have to be involved in Ji-soo's life. And I know it's premature, but I think Min Ji-soo, a beautiful name, and since I'm carrying her, then..." You speak defensively but without getting worked up.

"You notice that in this relationship, we should be a team and not rivals, right?" Yoongi speaks, taking a strand of his hair that was touching his eyes, while you look at him. You don't know if you're mad at him or if you agree with him.

"This whole situation is crazy. I dated you because I loved you and now we're married and I feel like I'm at the point where I'm stopping loving you. We need to fix this before the baby arrives." You say getting physically closer to Yoongi, your hand held his.

"What is your suggestion?" Yoongi asks holding her hand. A silly smile appeared on his face and you felt shy for a moment.

"May we try to be peaceful with each other. Maybe we can be bold too." You say, raising your hand to Yoongi's neck, pulling him into a kiss. A kiss that reminded you of what it was like to love him, making you feel intoxicated by the sensation of kissing Yoongi.

However, a sudden pain makes you pull away from Yoongi, letting out a groan of pain. It almost felt like your baby was kicking your belly, but usually, that didn't cause such intense pain. When you look down, you see blood on your pants, staining the floor of the room. Yoongi looks at you terrified, and you feel a sense of panic engulfing you.

"Yoongi, I'm not feeling well. I think there's something wrong with our girl." You say, feeling another pang of pain in your belly and slowly becoming dizzy. The pain was so intense that you almost blacked out when trying to stand up.

"Jagiya, listen to me. Let's go to the hospital, but I need you, for the sake of our daughter and yourself, to try to stay conscious." Yoongi says, grabbing the bag they had prepared for the baby and the car keys.

"If something happens, take care of our daughter for me. I know you'll be a good father." You say, feeling like you'll lose consciousness soon. The little strength you have, you use to gently touch your belly, as if saying goodbye to your little girl.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You and I are going to be great parents, together. I promise you that everything will be fine." You hear Yoongi say, so you look at him and touch his face. A last caress before the uncertain end. And then everything fades away, and you see nothing more.

To be continued...

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x you #min yoongi #jungkook #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #taehyung #jung hoseok #park jimin #bts series #bts angst #yoongi angst #min yoongi angst #ex to lovers #future parents au #Spotify

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jvngkook97 · 2 years

Note

Can you write "Baby kicks" for Jungkook? 👶🍼

Knockout

synopsis; in which Jungkook feels your baby kick for the first time and nearly gets KO’ed in the process.

pairing; boxer!dad!jungkook x pregnant!reader

genre; fluff, humor, established relationship, domestic au, slice of life au, pregnancy au, drabble

warnings; BOXER koo, DAD koo, those are pretty much all the warnings you need tbh, oh and minor suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit (cause I couldn’t resist hehe)

rating; 18+

w/c; 1,003

a/n; this request got me in my FEELS let me tell ya. it’s been so long since I’ve written for daddy!koo and I can’t thank you enough anon for spurring the inspiration to bring him back! hope it helps you and your daddy!koo needs as well! don’t be a silent reader! <3 like + reblog if you enjoyed. feedback is always appreciated and helps to keep this writer (and many others!) motivated to put out more content – like this! all the love, always.

networks; @thebtswritersclub, @btshoneyhive, @kflixnet, @k-vanity

One swift punch left, one jab right.

The onslaught seemed to be never ending.

Jungkook pauses in his workout when he hears you let out another groan within the span of less than five minutes.

The punching bag in front of him swings back and forth like a pendulum, and he watches it for a moment, getting lost in a state of zoning out.

“Jesus!”

You try to muffle the way you used the Lord’s name in vain with the sleeve of your sweater (Jungkook’s actually), biting into the thick material with your teeth clenched so hard that when he whips his head to look at you he can see your jaw muscles tighten considerably.

His eyes soften, facial features dropping at your very obvious discomfort. Pivoting on his bare feet, he walks off the thin, blue mat and towards your slightly hunched over figure. While he walks, he takes off both boxing gloves and shoves them underneath one armpit to hold. Using the other hand he uses the back of it to wipe off the sweat that drips along his forehead, the last hour and a half of his workout having taken a toll on his body.

Kneeling down in front of you, he winces when he hears a pop from one of his knees, a sign of his ripe age of 30. Your loose hair is hanging in front you like a shield, and though he can’t lock eyes with you, he can hear your muffled snicker. It makes his eyes narrow.

“What was that, y/n?”

Your entire body grows rigid when his voice penetrates the silence and you slowly sit back up against the back of the chair, hair now only half shielding your face so he can see atleast one eye and half of a sheepish smile spread across your guilty lips.

With a light puff of breath, you blow the hair away from your mouth that settles itself there at your new position. Before you can do it yourself – a slender, tattooed hand rises within your vision to push your hair back and tuck it behind your ear. The same hand begins to caress your cheek, one thumb running over your jawline slowly that has your eyes beginning to droop from how nice it feels, but when they get half closed, they widen open once again at the light pressured pat on your cheek.

He taps once. You glare.

“Hey!”

He taps again. You secure your hand over his.

“That’s for snickering at my popping knees.”

You pout cutely, brows furrowed in mock anger. He makes a point to rub the middle of your forehead to erase the wrinkles when he frees his hand from yours. Your once feigned angered expression scrunches into one of pain when a sharp punch hits you within your stomach.

Both of your attentions get drawn instantly to your bulging 37 week pregnant belly. You both just stare and wait.

What looks like a tiny little foot makes the surface of your skin stretch up and mold into it for a split second then just as quickly disappears as soon as it comes, leaving your belly jiggling lightly in it’s wake. At the sight, even Jungkook flinches along with you, him not expecting to see such a strong kick from your baby.

His hand presses down on the spot you both just saw your baby kick, and once again, you both wait. This time it occurs again, but not as harshly, just enough for Jungkook to feel it against the palm of his hand. After your baby retreats, Jungkook gets an idea. Instead of placing his hand back on your belly, he begins to lower his head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I just chugged some banana milk not too long ago so this babe is really feeling it now.”

“What banana milk?”

Oops. You forgot that he doesn’t know that you know he has a secret stash kept at the gym. Cat’s out of the bag now.

The sheepish look appears on your face like earlier, and deep within his gut he just knows.

“How long?”

You make a show of popping your lips, lightly drumming your fingers atop your belly as you answer, voice small and barely audible. He leans his head further towards you to hear you better, unknowingly putting himself in the perfect position to be within the danger zone.

“Y/N~.” He warns lightly, voice becoming sing-songy as he stretches out your name purposely.

“Koo~.” You mimic him perfectly.

“How long have you known about—,” he sucks in a sharp breath with a hiss, retreating back from your figure with a hand rubbing the side of his face to nurture the sore spot he just received. Not expecting the sudden punch, he lands flat on his ass from losing his balance that was already wobbly as he put his full body weight on his feet due to kneeling.

“Jesus fuc—,”

You slap your hands over your mouth with a surprised gasp, attempting to stop the bubble of laughter that was building steadily within your throat. The action causing your already moving belly to move even more. Your eyes began to water from holding your laughter in, light bursts slipping through your pursed lips. When his piercing glare diverts from your belly and onto you do you finally let it out.

Throwing your head back, he can’t help the light twitch of his lips as he bites back a smile at your bellowing form. You start stomping your feet on the floor as you laugh that causes a slightly annoyed look to appear on his face.

“Ha. Ha. Laugh it up, baby. You’ll be paying for this later at home, where your knees will be popping when you’re the one kneeling.”

He laughs humorlessly, sardonically even, arms crossed over his chest that makes his muscles flex deliciously, a sight that has your lips parting of their own accord and thighs rubbing together.

That shuts you up.

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taegularities · 4 months

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Riiiiiiid can i have a teeny tiny request when/if you can answer this. When oc was missing, what was going through jk’s head? Like did he thought she left him, got kidnapped by her parents, got into an accident, etc? Just wondering what’s fuelling his fear. Amazing lovely chapter! Srsly chefs kiss 🙌🏻

genre: est. rel. 🥺 fluff, angst wc: 1.3k 🤭 a/n: this turned into a legit drabble LMAO i'd be over the moon if you guys lmk what you think of this lil mess and whether i did a good job? :] not proofread <3

–

if jungkook had the power to undo this, what would he do differently?

hours ago, when you left the apartment.

perhaps he'd handle you with caution. realise that his fret means nothing, and that nobody else defines your relationship but him and you.

maybe he would let you know that he's stuck to you like superglue, no matter what. that he goes insane when you don't show signs of life. and that you're stitched into all crevices of his heart, permanently.

perhaps reacting in such a way could've changed the chain of events today. whatever happened, maybe you could've reached out, rushed to him. instead, you were hidden in a bathroom minutes ago, door locked and a barrier between the two of you.

even now, your mind roams in far distance. waiting for a line to appear or not; and the approaching result fills him with fear. not because he in particular dreads it – but because you do. sniffling, drying your tears, shaking.

jungkook isn't stupid, so he won't tell you how you affect him. how your pain becomes his burden, too, and how he wants the moment to pass, so your tremble stops.

life didn't pain you enough, it seems. something or someone in the skies above is being unfair.

it hurts. it hurts. it fucking hurts.

and on top of everything, jungkook's own ache, courtesy of his overthinking, still lingers. how he wondered if you'd left him. or hoping you weren't hurt. praying that you were unscathed, not a victim of the world's carelessness.

he can't tell you, though. and he doesn't.

not when the minutes pass and jokes are exchanged. not when you explain why you never came home. and not when only one line appears, pushing you into another sobfest that only his arms heal, slowly and carefully. bit by bit.

you're so warm against him. so innocent and relieved, seeking a cure in him to diminish the former pain. you hold onto him so tight, quivering more than ever, crying tear after tear after tear.

jungkook doesn't think he's ever felt such a firm, solid crack splitting his heart. because you don't deserve this.

you're his gentle, enthusiastic girl, aren't you? thrilled about countryside weddings and glued-on stars. you do not deserve this.

your transparent emotions punch him in the guts even when you've bid eun goodbye. and the very next moment, as he comes to a stand in front of the entrance, stalling the drive back home, he feels something stir in him, too.

the same as before when you opened the bathroom door. the same intense yearning clogging up his throat. because when he looks at you now…

tear-stained cheeks. red eyes. yet, a soft smile assuring him that you're okay again…

he knows now. he knows.

"angel..." he voices, and you lift your falling eyelids, endless tenderness in your gaze.

his heart combusts. nervous fear fills his entire being, so worried you might walk away or cry again or be scared off or… or…

tell her.

she might know anyway.

the voice keeps urging him. wants to bare his thoughts, pull them out of his mind.

tell her.

but he doesn't. instead, he calms the brittle organ beneath his chest, eyes blinking his secrets away before he says, "nothing. let's go home."

and he admits now. barely half an hour later, he admits that his choices aren't always well thought out. because how did he manage to pain you again?

crying in front of him, in the middle of the living room, much like… what? a mere month ago. asking him what's wrong; getting back a confused nothing.

he covers his face when you inquire whether he's sure, rubbing it before he responds, "yeah. tired, is all. worn out from the stress."

"i'm sorry."

god. no.

there's no fault in anyone right now. there's no misery, just… realisations. revelations.

"no," he starts, "it's okay."

you swallow, and then argue, "i don't think it is. tell me what you're thinking about."

but how does he tell you? because his words wouldn't suffice. and he doesn't quite know whether the moment's right. how does he unveil something to you that'll never do justice to what he truly feels?

"nothing, baby," he answers; he's being so stupid, "please go to sleep."

but you don't falter. "is it because of the pregnancy scare? or because i didn't call you. i scared you."

"no. it's nothing like that."

he waits.

fuck… he could throw up. you're here, so close, waiting for a response, and he's panicking, nervous, insecure, and… and…

so in fucking love.

"just go change into something comfortable, angel," jungkook gently orders, fuelling the craze in his jumbled mind, "or do you want to eat first? i can get you some food to the bedroom, too."

you shake your head, digging, "i want– you to tell me what's wrong."

but it's not easy. wording feelings has never been easy.

he groans quietly, keeping his foot from tapping the ground. if he told you now… would you react in kind? would you walk away? if he told you now, would you push him away or pull him closer?

shit, shit, shit.

his head falls between his shoulders, fingers grazing his wrinkled forehead, heaviness behind it, "what do i tell you?"

"just. was it… is it seokjin? i won't talk to him if you don't want me to."

god, if you knew…

that seokjin long took a backseat in his head. he would've barely been able to remember his name right now, because his mind is so painfully filled with the same damn things revolving around you.

with the same word, over and over again, repeating in a circle and as a plea.

"that's not it," he promises.

"it's not…?"

"babe… i don't care about him. i stopped caring ten minutes later."

he explains the agitation this morning; explains the far graver evening, how it overshadowed each word uttered in that stupid argument. how you drove him crazy today.

fearing, craving, pining.

wondering if you'd be coming back, if he'd ever get the chance to tell you that you carry his heart with you wherever you go.

and maybe that's exactly what he should do.

right.

enough of this idiocy.

he stands, stepping closer. his voice is unsteady when he calls your name, shaking fingers carding through his hair. he sighs, and then inhales a breath to give his lungs something. to lift the burn.

jungkook prepares his mind for the best and the worst for only a moment before everything goes blank. and then, finally, he realises that, first and foremost, he doesn't need an immediate reaction.

he just needs you to know.

"what is it then?" you still question, tears falling freely, "fuck, just. just say it, please."

your hand curls into a fist, and he rushes to grab your wrist; tugs you into him, a palm on your back. pushing you closer, trying to press his affection into you, and all misery out of you.

he holds your head, holds you right there, lets you cry into his shirt.

and then, he admits, "i'm not good with words, baby. and i don't know how to ever properly verbalise something like this."

"what? verbalise wh–"

then again, does he not know?

no. he does. he just doesn't think it'll ever suffice. ever.

because what he feels doesn't belong to this mundane world. it isn't ordinary; transcends normalcy. no, to him, it appears like something out of a fairytale.

this is what songs are written about; what love stories and novels and movies speak of. the exact rhymes present in poetry. jungkook doesn't have the vocabulary that poets possess.

can't truly explain what you elicit, and what you mean to him, and how insane you make him, and how he wants to hold you and freeze this moment forever, and…

and how he's never been as certain about anything as about–

"i love you."

no… he doesn't need you to answer immediately.

he just needs you to finally know.

–

:'''))))) i have nothing to say except. thank you for this lil request. i am in tears and will go hide in the bathroom now. <3

#*cmi spoiler #kidnapped by her parents had me dying gkjsahfjksaf 😭#thank you so much for reading and loving it <333 #notes for rid 🌹#anon #fic: colour me in #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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drawballa · 1 year

Photo

Shield & Shelter Chapter 8 (2/6)

ALL CHAPTERS: https://www.tumblr.com/drawballa/708347107446226945/shield-shelter-royalau-master-post?source=share

#jikook #jikook fanart #prince jimin #knight jungkook #comic #I CANT WITH JK #he's like we need a safe place? okay i know just the place!#and its with his parents

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hannarchive · 1 year

Text

lubdubsworld (prev. sunshyngal) fics w/ chapter links

My favorite @lubdubsworld fics with updated links, (since their masterlist haven’t been updated with new links since they changed URL). Had a few people ask about it too, so hope others find this helpful as well.

(This is not even close to all of their fics. If you want to find more you’ll have to search their blog and/or go through their archive)

Yoongi x OC

Make it Hurt (Then Kiss it Better) - A/B/O

Summary : Min Jung fights her biology, her genetic make up, her body. But she can’t fight her heart. Especially when said heart keeps calling for a handsome Alpha with warm brown eyes and a breathtaking smile.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 6.5 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 (Final)

Amor Vincit Omnia - Gang!AU, Arranged Marriage

Summary : The worst thing you can do to a guy? Marry him when he begs you not to. Worst thing you can do to yourself? Fall in love with him afterwards.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19 - Chapter 20 (Final)

Taehyung x OC

Change of Heart - Werewolf!AU

Times are changing. After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all. He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart, first.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 (Final)

Jungkook x OC

The Sadness of Things - A/B/O, Arranged Marriage

Summary : A recently widowed Jungkook agrees to a contract marriage to keep his company afloat. His grief overwhelms him and it is hard to look at his new wife as anything other than an intruder .

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 (Final)

Harvest Moon - Werewolf!AU

Summery : Jungkook is a very special Alpha. The future head alpha and one of the strongest wolves in the clan. He is spoken for, a perfect mate ready for him. OC isn’t anything special. She’s an orphan and she wants only to spend the rest of her life in her cottage with a normal mate. She’s nothing special but somehow, Jungkook chooses her during the mating run and suddenly she’s thrown into a world that is both new and terrifying.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 (Final)

#yoongi #taehyung #jungkook #werewolf #abo #single parent #mafia #arranged marriage #angst #series #HA fic recs #bts fic recs #masterlist #lubdubsworld

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vinetae · 1 year

Text

Classified Nights ➵ JJK

"𝒮𝑒𝓍 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓈𝓁𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝑜𝒻𝒻.."

Genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, dad!Jungkook, Mom!Reader

Warnings: foul language, cursing, exhibitionism? (Not really because their son is asleep), heavy makeouts, teasing, vaginal sex, cowgirl, vaginal penetration (they're married, chill), Dom!Jungkook, bratty sub!Reader

A/n: this was an idea I got some time ago, courtesy of Jungkook's karaoke live while he's laying down with Bam.

Main masterlist

____

“Tell me what you want.” His chocolate eyes pleaded, but nothing escaped his breath. His lips flatten to a straight line, quivering outwards to give you some sort of hint to what he’d been playing at.

Keep reading

#Classified Nights #jeon jungkook #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts #daddy jungkook #dom jungkook #sub reader #parent life #jeon jungkook smut #requests are open

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sweetestofchaos · 8 months

Text

TOTW Ch 7

𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗈𝗍𝟩 𝗑 𝗈𝖼!𝗁𝗒𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖳𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾/𝖺𝗎: 𝖠𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝖥𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖠𝖴, 𝖧𝗒𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖽 𝖠𝖴, 𝖭𝗈𝗇-𝖨𝖽𝗈𝗅 𝖠𝖴 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝖨𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖱𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖬𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖳𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗆𝖺/𝖭𝖾𝗀𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍/𝖯𝖳𝖲𝖣, 𝖠𝗅𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖺!𝖲𝖾𝗈𝗄𝗃𝗂𝗇, 𝖯𝗂𝖾𝖽-𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖲𝗁𝗂𝖾𝗅𝖽 𝖳𝖺𝗂𝗅 𝖲𝗇𝖺𝗄𝖾!𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖭𝖺𝗆𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖧𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗄, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖩𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗇, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖳𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀, 𝖪𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗈!𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄, 𝖰𝗎𝗈𝗅𝗅!𝖮𝖢 𝗐𝖼: 6.3𝖪

“Family isn’t always blood. It’s the people in your life who want you in theirs; the ones who accept you for who you are. The ones that would do anything to see you smile and who love you no matter what.” - unknown

a/n: @namjinsmoonchile as always, thank you for being my beta! and major shoutout to @jung-koook for the amazing gif set that the ending of this chapter is based around. I also linked the gif set in the chapter, so you know what the moment looks like irl.

taglist: @elliedearest @quirkybtsarmy @vvh0adie

series masterlist 🌻character profiles

previous || next

Yoongi sits in his car parked in front of the house. He just got off the phone with Mister Fentin and the adoption agency would like to speak to the Min pack in person. Yoongi informed the caseworker that he would have to call him back within the next hour because he needed to see what day and time worked best for everyone in his pack. Mister Fentin was understanding and Yoongi is thankful that he is Imani’s main caseworker. It would be a lie if Yoongi said he wasn’t nervous about the meeting but he trusted that everything would work in his pack’s favor. Seokjin and Imani imprinted on each other and they made sure that the house was perfect for Imani.

Yoongi shakes his head and inhales deeply before he gets out of the car. He will talk about it with everyone at dinner tonight. He knows that once they learn of the meeting they will pretty much stop everything and make themselves available. At the door, Yoongi loosens his tie and unlocks the front door. As he steps inside, he hears the excited squeals of Imani’s laughter before he smells the happiness that is thick in the air. A garden of sunflowers and lavender on a warm summer day. It eases the tension in his shoulders and Yoongi toes off his shoes before he places them in the rack by the door.

From up on the nesting floor, Seokjin hears Yoongi enter their home, loud and clear. The distraction causes him to shout when a soft, plush ball is thrown at his face and Imani giggles as she hides behind her fortress of pillows. Seokjin narrows his eyes playfully and points his finger at Imani.

"How dare you! Prepare for vengeance!” Seokjin yells but before he can make a move, Jungkook comes flying into the nest with a battle cry as he throws two more plush balls at Seokjin.

“Defend the Princess!” Jungkook shouts as he blocks the fortress with his body.

“Ambush!” Jimin screams as he jumps into the nest and pegs another ball in Seokjin’s direction.

“I’m out numbered!” Seokjin cries as he falls backwards clutching his chest.

Yoongi walks up the steps and stops at the top when he sees Namjoon cradling Seokjin’s head in his lap in the nest. Seokjin coughs and lifts a shaking hand slowly as he coughs more.

“J-Joonie? I-Is that you?” Seokjin’s acting is top tier and everyone is holding back giggles as Namjoon nods his head.

“I’m here! I’m right here, Hyung!”

“A-Avenge me…”

Seokjin’s hand falls from Namjoon’s cheek and he twitches a few times before he plays dead with a loud choking sound. Hoseok and Taehyung are standing outside of the nest filming the whole thing with their phones and Yoongi watches on with a fond smile on his face.

“We win?” Imani’s head pops out from the fortress of pillows and Jimin is quick to scoop her up in his arms.

“We have to defeat the evil wizard’s dragon, Princess.”

Imani’s eyes widen as Namjoon starts to growl and roar as he pushes Seokjin off his lap and jumps to his feet.

“Dragon!” Jungkook grabs a pillow and holds it to his chest like a shield while he holds a ball in his other hand. “Prepare to die!”

Namjoon roars loudly and lunges at Jungkook, easily dodging the ball that is thrown his way. He grabs Jungkook around the waist and hoists the hybrid over his shoulder.

“Kookie!” Imani yells and she tries to get out of Jimin’s hold.

“Don’t look Princess!” Jimin covers Imani’s eyes as Jungkook starts to laugh from Namjoon tickling his thighs and tossing him beside Seokjin who is still playing dead. “He’s gone, Princess.”

“Magic! Use magic!”

“Magic?” Jimin ponders out loud and his eyes fall on Yoongi. “Should I summon our own dragon?”

“We ‘ave dragon?” Imani stares at Jimin, her face twisted in confusion and then she follows Jimin’s line of sight. Her eyes widen and she wiggles in Jimin’s arms, “Yoonie! H-Helps!”

All eyes are on Yoongi waiting to see if he will join in and with a huff he shrugs off his suit jacket and pulls his tie completely off, letting it drop to the floor.

Yoongi’s eyes shift to thin slits and he hisses, “Ssssave my Princesssss!”

Imani giggles as Yoongi easily climbs into the nest and blocks Namjoon’s path to Jimin and her. Yoongi ruffles his hair to look more menacing and Namjoon narrows his eyes as he rolls his shoulders. Namjoon picks up two balls and Jimin quickly hands a few to Yoongi before he hides Imani away in the fortress. Jimin picks up the last few balls and stands beside Yoongi.

“Ready, dragon?”

“Ready…fairy?”

Jimin scarfs at Yoongi’s assumption and rolls his eyes, “I’m part of the royal guard.”

“My bad,” Yoongi snickers and everyone covers their laughter with coughs. “Attack!” Yoongi shouts and he lunges for Namjoon with Jimin right by his side.

Balls go flying. One completely misses its target and hits Taehyung in the leg. He drops to his knees and rubs at his knee while Hoseok calls for a medic.

“We-We’re losing him!” Hoseok shouts as another ball comes his way. He ducks and it hits the wall. Hoseok grabs the ball that hit Taehyung and he throws it carelessly. It hits the back of Jimin’s shoulder and Jimin shouts in surprise.

“I’ve been hit!” Jimin falls to his knees and drops to his side, holding his shoulder. “I-I’m not gonna make it. T-Tell the Princess that I l-love her!” Jimin throws his arms outwards and closes his eyes.

It’s just Namjoon, Yoongi,and Imani left and Imani is giggling like crazy hidden in her fortress. As Yoongi throws the ball in his hand, Imani pops out of the fortress with a loud, “Wait!”

Everyone sits up and looks at Imani to make sure she is okay. “I go potty!” Imani climbs out of the nest and runs down the hallway towards the bathroom.

Having a short moment to themselves, Yoongi shakes his head with a laugh, “What did I walk in on?”

Seokjin runs a hand through his hair and laughs, “We were watching Barbie as Rapunzel and then Jungkook wanted to build a tower-”

“Things escalated from there,” Jungkook interrupts with a shrug while he smiles cutely, his nose scrunching up.

“You make a good dragon, Hyungs.” Taehyung compliments from his seat beside Hoseok.

“How did you two not get dragged into this?” Jimin questions as he starts to collect the balls with Namjoon.

“We were making snacks, remember?” Hoseok points to the forgotten charcuterie board half filled with fruit and everyone accepts the answer.

Yoongi unbuttons the first three buttons of his shirt and rolls his neck a few times before he inhales and smacks his lips. “I got a phone call from Mister Fentin.” All eyes are on Yoongi and he can see the worry on everyone’s faces. “The adoption agency wants to meet with us face to face. I told him that I wanted to talk it over with you all to see what day and time works best.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Seokjin asks as he picks at his cuticle and Jungkook grabs hold of his hands. Everyone looks at each other and Yoongi sighs with a smile.

“I’ll call him back and see if tomorrow at ten thirty works.”

“Let me inform my boss,” Namjoon pulls his phone from his pocket and everyone follows his lead. They will all take the day off tomorrow just in case. If the news is good, they will celebrate and if it is bad, they will spend every single second with Imani before she is taken away from them.

“Hobie, we eat?” Imani’s voice cuts through the click clacking of the phones and Hoseok grins.

“Give me a few more minutes and we can have a snack. Did you wash your hands?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow and Imani nods her head.

“Yesh!” Imani holds her hands up and they are still damp.

“Come on Princess! Let’s find another movie to watch.” Jimin moves to scoop Imani into his arms but she ducks and drives into the nest. She runs over to Yoongi and throws her arms around his legs.

“Up?”

Yoongi easily lifts her into his arms and she buries her nose into his neck, scenting him immediately. Yoongi rubs Imani’s back and kisses the side of her head, “I missed you too, sweetheart.” Yoongi inhales the ever pleasant scent of sunflowers and his whole body melts into the hug.

Seokjin comes over and helps Yoongi sit down with Imani still in his arms. “You’re gonna put her in a scent haze if you keep it up,” Seokjin scolds lightly and Yoongi grumbles as he cuddles into Imani’s little body, hugging her tighter. “Stop it,” Seokjin sighs. “She has to eat.”

“Is everyone ready?” Namjoon questions as he meets Seokjin on the main floor. Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin are all sitting on the couch whispering to each other about who knows what. Yoongi is in his office on the phone with Mister Fentin and Hoseok is nowhere in sight along with Imani.

“Hobi should be finished soon. I just checked on him and Imani.” Seokjin looked at Namjoon and brushed his hair out of his eyes with a smile. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

“I’m not worried,” Namjoon lies and Seokjin pecks his lips.

“You smell like a stagnant puddle.”

“Shut up,” Namjoon mumbles against Seokjin’s lips and kisses him again before he pulls away with a sigh. “I love her, Hyung. I can’t see us without her in our lives.” Namjoon fiddles with the silver chain necklace he has on and licks his lips. “I know it hasn’t been that long since she’s been here, but she belongs with us…they know that, right?”

The wavering confidence that shines in Namjoon’s eyes makes Seokjin’s eyes burn and he pulls the younger man into a hug. Namjoon laughs something between a whine and a snort as he hugs Seokjin back and Jungkook scrunches up his nose.

“Hyungs are really worried, right now,” Jungkook mutters and Jimin sighs, already feeling stressed about the meeting. Honestly he didn’t get much sleep last night and from the way Taehyung is pressing against his side, he knows that Taehyung didn’t either.

“Everyone is stressed, Kook. This is…this will change our whole lives.” Taehyung speaks up and clears his throat as he pulls away from Jimin. “I know that there shouldn’t be any doubt in my mind that Imani will stay with us but-”

“I know,” Jungkook speaks over Taehyung and grabs hold of his hand. “I know, Hyung.”

The sound of the lift chiming catches everyone’s attention and they all smile at the sight of Imani tucked in Hoseok’s arms.

“Oh, my cria! Look at you!” Seokjin coos as he rushes over and fawns over the little hybrid. Hoseok split Imani’s hair into two sections for her hairstyle today. A single braided bun sits at the top of her head with silver cut out clips and she has a long bubble ponytail hanging from the back of her head sectioned off with silver clips. The hairstyle shows off Imani’s fuzzy black ears and she looks so cute.

Hoseok also got her dressed for today and Seokjin is pleased with the outfit choice. A pink sweater with white puff balls all over it, dark wash straight leg jeans with the ankles rolled up and a pair of silver iridescent zip up sneakers completes the whole look. Seokjin takes notice of the silver bubble necklace around Imani’s neck and he smiles.

It is a necklace that Seokjin remembers buying for Jimin when they had first started dating. It is nice to see it on Imani, it looks beautiful on her. Namjoon leaves to grab Yoongi and together they all step out of the house as a family of eight. Jungkook makes sure to grab Imani’s outing bag just in case and as the group splits into two, he wonders if he can convince the pack to vote on getting some kind of van so that they can all drive together.

Hoseok drives with the three youngest while Imani drives with the eldest of the pack. Yoongi drives with Namjoon in the passenger seat while Seokjin sits in the back with Imani. As they drive, Seokjin and Imani play a game of ispy. It makes Yoongi smile and Namjoon chuckle as Imani figures out that Seokjin is just looking at things inside of the car.

When Yoongi pulls into the driveway that leads to the adoption building, the scents in the car change and Imani wrinkles her nose. “You stink!” Imani whines as she holds her hands over her nose and Seokjin laughs while patting her head.

“I know I do…sorry pup.” Seokjin catches Yoongi’s eyes in the rearview mirror and tries not to frown. He really shouldn’t be this nervous but he can’t help it. If they try to take Imani away, he will bite someone.

“You’re putting scent blockers on before we get in there,” Namjoon states and neither of the hybrids protest. Yoongi follows the signs until he’s parked at the far end of the building with Jimin right behind him. As they get out of the car, Namjoon tosses him a bottle of scent blockers and Yoongi rolls the neutralizing oil onto his scent glands. He hands it off to Seokjin, who ushers Imani to stand by Namjoon and quickly rolls the oil onto his own scent glands. Once Jungkook steps out of his car, Seokjin is rolling the oil onto the hybrid’s scent glands and Jungkook whines. He hates scent blockers, it makes him feel weird. He hates not being able to smell his packmates.

“Jinnie?” Imani tugs at Seokjin’s pant leg with a frown on her face. “That’s bad,” she points to the blocker in Jungkook’s hand and everyone looks at her.

Seokjin squats down in front of her and smiles, “It’s okay baby. We don’t want to make anyone sad or mad, so we have to put this on.”

“Mommy said bad.”

Seokjin nods his head in agreement, “Your Mommy was right but sometimes we have to use these. I promise we won't get in trouble.”

Imani shoves her hand in Seokjin’s face and he stares at it crossed eyed before he laughs. He links their pinkies and presses their thumbs together with a smile on his face.

“Come on, we don’t want to be late.” Yoongi takes the oil from Jungkook and slips it into his pocket before Jungkook grabs Imani’s outing bag and swings it over his shoulder. Jimin lifts Imani into his arms and she wraps her little arms around his neck, twisting her body to see where they are going.

The building in front of them is huge. All grey stone, giving off little to no warmth and the tall glass windows seem to be a sick joke as they tease those inside of brighter days. A guard stands at the side entrance of the building and nods his head at the group as they all enter the building. Imani whimpers at the lack of scent, it just smells…empty. She huddles into Jimin’s chest and buries her face in the crook of his neck. The scent of cinnamon and coconut is faint, layered underneath some kind of artificial scent (cologne) but it’s there and it works to ease Imani’s mind.

The Min pack all take seats around the large waiting area while Yoongi and Namjoon walk to the main desk and speak with the receptionist. Sitting in Jimin’s lap, Imani’s hand goes to the hoop earring that he wears and she plays with it. Jimin smiles and kisses the top of Imani’s head as he starts to hum gently. Beside Jimin, Taehyung takes hold of Imani’s free hand and kisses her tiny little fingers. Imani smiles and Taehyung makes a silly face to which Imani giggles and tries to copy him. They go back and forth making silly faces until Yoongi and Namjoon come over and everyone is looking at them while Imani hides her face in Jimin’s neck.

“They want us in room 613. Someone will show us the way.” Namjoon explains as Yoongi reaches down and takes Imani from Jimin. No one says a thing as they are led to a room that has a large wooden table in the center with chairs on both sides. The walls are cream with a pale yellow accent wall. In the far corner of the room away from the table is what looks to be a nesting and play corner. At the sight of the toys, Yoongi sets Imani down and pets her head softly.

“Why don’t you go play, hm? It looks like a lot of fun.”

Imani looks at the toys and takes a step closer to Yoongi. She grips onto his pant leg and everyone frowns. Taehyung wonders if this whole trip is a mirror image of what could have happened when she was given to the HBM. Taehyung shakes his head and squats down in front of Imani.

“All aboard the TaeTae train!”

Jimin gasps and moves to get on Taehyung’s back but Imani giggles and stops him. “Too big! Me wide!” Imani jumps onto Taehyung’s back and Jimin pouts.

“No fair! I want a ride!”

Jungkook snorts, hands Imani’s outing bag to Hoseok and lowers himself onto all fours in front of Jimin, “Bet I’m faster!” Jungkook teases and Jimin sits on his back. Seokjin sighs but smiles nonetheless knowing that the boys are being silly to make Imani feel better. He clears his throat and stands behind them.

“Ready. Set. Go!”

Taehyung and Jungkook start to crawl over to the toys with a speed that makes Imani shout and giggle while Jimin laughs, his eyes turned into crescent moons with his mouth wide open. Taehyung and Jungkook reach the toys at the same time and Jungkook trips over his hands so that Taehyung places Imani down in front of the toys first to make her the winner. Knowing that Imani is now focused on the toys and the younger members of the pack, the other four sit at the table with Seokjin and Yoongi in the middle.

“Mister Fentin won’t be here in person, they will have him on zoom or something like that,” Yoongi quietly explains.

“Who are we talking to then? Another caseworker?” Hoseok asks and Namjoon nods his head.

“Her name is Ran Sejung. She has been helping Mister Fentin with Imani’s case since she came to South Korea.” Namjoon slides his phone from his pocket and pulls up his email. He types Ran Sejung’s name in the search bar and all their emails pop up. He scrolls to the very first one that shows a picture of Sejung and the woman is young. At least in her mid to late thirties with dyed blonde hair, dark brown eyes, a slender nose and thin lips.

“Is she nice?” Seokjin looks at the photo and he doesn’t know what to think. He can’t tell if the woman is nice or not.

Before Namjoon can answer Seokjin’s question there is a knock at the door and everyone at the table stands up as the door opens. Sejung walks in with a smile on her face followed by two older men in suits. One of which is a hamster hybrid. Yoongi is thankful that the hybrid is wearing blockers and they all bow to each other while shaking hands.

“It is nice to finally meet the Min pack in person. I am Ran Sejung and I’m in charge of Imani’s case while she is registered in our system.”

The other two men introduce themselves as Ryan Tate and Sim Kunwoo, the hamster hybrid. Sejung pulls a laptop from one of the drawers in the room and sets it up on the table. Soon, Mister Fentin is on the screen smiling at everyone and Yoongi is thankful to see a familiar face.

“Now, I would like to start this meeting by saying that we have dealt with a lot of unique cases but Imani’s is by far one of the most difficult.” Sejung keeps her tone light but serious as she speaks and Seokjin grabs Yoongi’s hand under the table. “When a hybrid is a target of the Hybrid Black Market there are steps we must take to insure that the hybrid has not been harmed in any way. Those exams were performed in the States under Mister Fentin’s watch.”

“Was something wrong?” Seokjin’s voice wavers as he asks the question and Namjoon holds his breath.

“Physically, Imani was unharmed. She was underweight and refused to shift. The shifting is what raised a red flag in our system.”

“Why?” Hoseok looks between the three people across from him.

“If a hybrid refuses to shift, it means one of two things.” Mister Fentin speaks from the laptop. “They could be feral-”

“I would know if I was housing a feral hybrid,” Yoongi is firm as he speaks and Mister Fentin nods in agreement.

“If that were the case Mister Min, Imani would not have been released into your care. The second would be a trauma response and from what we now know of her home life, that is the cause of it.”

“With a child so young, therapy is a must, especially for a hybrid.” Sejung looks right at Yoongi as she speaks. “It is mandatory for Imani to get proper counseling.”

“It was a topic that we have yet to discuss but it was on our minds,” Namjoon interjects and Sejung nods her head.

“Good. Now let’s move on, Mister Tate will continue.”

Mister Tate is a wisp of a man, short and thin, could easily be blown away by a strong gust of wind. He goes over Imani’s lab work and explains what everything means in layman’s terms for the group of four to easily understand. Imani is a healthy four year old child with what is most likely PTSD due to her time with her godfather. But they won’t know until she is evaluated by a professional therapist.

“Now that you understand the extent of the test results, do you feel confident in your abilities to care for Imani?” Mister Tate stares at the four men in front of him and they all nod their heads without a moment's hesitation. He nods his head and looks to Mister Sim who pulls a closed envelope from a bag none of them noticed. Mister Sim places the envelope on the table and pushes it forward towards Yoongi. The four men look at the envelope and no one is breathing. Seokjin’s eyes waver and he squeezes Yoongi’s hand so tightly that his bones rub together.

“Open it Yoongi!” Seokjin begs as Hoseok places a hand on his knee. Namjoon places a hand on Yoongi’s knee as well and Yoongi inhales deeply. He licks his lips, forked tongue poking out quickly to taste the air in hopes that he can get a grasp of what is to come next. It is no use, the three caseworkers across the table all have poker faces on. Yoongi reaches out and slides the envelope in front of him. His hands are shaking as he picks it up and starts to unwind the red tie that keeps it sealed. He reaches into the envelope and there is a nice stack of papers waiting for him.

“What is it?” Hoseok whispers and Yoongi swallows loudly. He glances over to the corner of the room where Imani is giggling along with Taehyung as Jungkook makes a doll moonwalk while Jimin sings.

Namjoon squeezes his knee lightly, pulls Yoongi back to the envelope in front of him and he feels sweat collect at the nape of his neck and bites the inside of his cheek. Carefully he pulls the stack of paper out and holds it in front of him. The black ink in front of him is blurry and no matter how many times he blinks his eyes, the letters won’t focus.

“Yoongi.” Seokjin’s voice is watery and it makes Yoongi’s shiver. “Yoongi…”

The letters are written in neat, clean font. Bold and spaced out, large enough for all four men to read clearly…Adoption Order. A sob rips from Seokjin’s lips and tears stream down his face. Namjoon runs a hand through his hair and huffs out a deep sigh as his eyes start to burn while Hoseok is quietly sobbing on Seokjin’s shoulder.

“What wrong? Why you cry?” Imani’s tiny voice fills the room as she forgets about the toys and waddles over to the table. Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung are standing together looking fearfully at the paper in Yoongi’s hands.

“H-Hyung?” Jungkook’s voice is quiet, so very, very quiet and Yoongi looks over at the three youngest while Imani climbs into Seokjin’s lap and tries to wipe his never ending tears away. Yoongi pets the top of Imani’s head and pulls Seokjin into a side hug, tucking the elder’s head underneath his chin as he looks at his pack.

“She’s ours.”

The silence in the room is loud. Hoseok and Seokjin’s sobs are the only noise and soon the other three are crying. Jimin clings to Taehyung as he hides his tears and Jungkook leans against the table, face in his hands as he weeps in relief. Imani is upset, she doesn’t understand why everyone is crying and she doesn’t like it.

“Jinnie what wrong?!” Imani yells with a pout, her own eyes starting to tear and Seokjin shushes her with a million kisses and hugs.

“N-Nothing is wrong baby. Everything-” Seokjin sniffles and wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. “Everything is perfect now.” He pulls Imani into his chest and starts to scent her heavily.

Mister Fentin clears his throat from the laptop and Yoongi’s eyes dart to the older man. He is all smiles as he watches the Min pack soak in the news of their newest and permanent packmate.

“Can you get these young men a pen please, Miss Ran?”

“Imani, baby…” Yoongi swallows back his tears and takes Imani’s tiny hands in his own. “Would you like to stay with us?” Yoongi asks softly and wipes at the tears that have fallen from Imani’s eyes.

Imani stares at the Min pack and tries to understand the question. They can see the wheels turning in her mind, so Seokjin speaks up.

“Cria, we want you to stay with us forever. C-Can we be your new family?” Seokjin smiles down at Imani and she pulls her hands from Yoongi’s.

“You no cry, if I stay?”

Namjoon’s heart clenches in his chest and Jimin leans against him for support. Seokjin shakes his head and Imani grins.

“Kookie my friend forever?” Imani looks at the kangaroo and Jungkooks nods his head, his lower lip quivering while Taehyung rubs his back. “You love me?” Imani stares into Seokjin’s eyes and Seokjin nods his head quickly.

“Jinnie loves you so much, Imani.”

“We all love you, baby,” Yoongi stresses as he scratches behind Imani’s ears and the whole pack all nod their heads in agreement.

Imani melts into Yoongi’s touch and slumps against Seokjin’s chest, tucking her arms between their bodies. “I stay, forever!”

After the Min pack leave the adoption center with Imani held tightly in Seokjin’s arms, the pack decide that it is a wonderful day for lunch at the park. Yoongi drives to the day market where he knows there is a park nearby and everyone gets out of the car. Taehyung is in charge of carrying Imani in the crowded streets as they stop by different vendors to get food and treats. Imani wiggles to get down when she sees a woman selling cotton candy and Taehyung carefully sets her down before he grabs hold of her hand.

“Look TaeTae!” Imani pulls Taehyung towards the old woman and Taehyung smiles when the older woman coos at Imani.

“Aren’t you a cutie! Would you like one, my dear?”

“Please?” Imani’s eyes are wide as the woman laughs and starts to make a fresh batch. The globe of fluff is twisted and turned until it resembles the polar bear captain from Octonauts. Imani is completely in awe as the woman hands over the cotton candy and Taehyung’s heart melts. He lets go of Imani’s hand to pull his wallet from his pocket to pay for the treat. As he hands over the money he looks down and Imani isn’t beside him. Icy fear, colder than anything he has ever felt, freezes Taehyung’s heart and he starts to panic. She was just there a moment ago, she couldn’t have gone too far.

“Imani?” Taehyung calls her name. “Imani?” He raises his voice and people are starting to look at him. “Excuse me, have you seen a little girl with black ears on her head in a pink sweater?” Taehyung is panicking, his heart is in his ass and he feels sick.

A giggle hits his ears and he spins around to find Imani dancing with her cotton candy in front of Jimin. The weight in Taehyung’s chest lessens and it is easier to breathe. He staggers over to his pack and falls into Jungkook’s arms who is looking at him worriedly.

“I-I thought I lost her,” Taehyung whispers against Jungkook’s chest and Jungkook tightens his hold.

“Sorry, Hyung. I thought you heard me say that we had her.” Jungkook nuzzles into Taehyung’s hair and scents him quietly while Imani clings to Jimin’s legs giggling like crazy as he walks around with her between his legs. Jungkook rubs Taehyung’s back and pushes out the warmth of his burning firewood. Taehyung’s shoulders relax, his legs turn to jelly and Jungkook stands tall as Taehyung slowly pulls himself together.

“I’m good.” Taehyung pulls away from Jungkook and runs a hand through his hair. “I never want to feel that way ever again,” Taehyung grumbles as he turns to watch Jimin and Imani.

“She’s safe, Hyung. Never out of our sights, ever.” Jungkook assures and Taehyung nods his head, thankful.

“Let’s go!” Namjoon’s voice calls to them and Taehyung nearly trips when Imani runs right into his legs.

“Up, high!”

“High?” Taehyung looks at Jimin confused and he points to his shoulders. “Ah, high. Let’s go, my heart.” Taehyung squats down and Jungkook is right behind him, helping Imani onto Taehyung’s shoulders. Taehyung holds onto her legs, his large hands covering her knees and most of her thighs completely. “Cool?”

“Cool!”

Taehyung slowly stands up and Jungkook keeps his hands up in case Imani starts to lean backwards. Once he is upright, Jungkook puts his hands down and walks beside Taehyung while Jimin slips his pinkie into one of Taehyung’s belt loops. The three walk over to the rest of the pack and Seokjin smiles.

“What did you get, Imani?” Seokjin looks at the half eaten cotton candy and he hopes that none of it ends up in Taehyung’s hair.

The park is nice, not that crowded with a good amount of soccer moms sitting around. Imani doesn’t care much for the food, she wants to play with all the children. So, Seokjin makes a deal with her, if she eats all of her meat and fruit she can go play. While eating, the guys joke around and feed each other. Ignoring the looks from the other parents in the park at seeing hybrids and humans together.

Namjoon notices that there are two hybrid families sitting nearby and the parents keep telling their children to wait for Imani to finish eating before they ask to play. It makes Namjoon smile before he has never seen Imani play with other children her own age.

When Imani gets done with her food, Hoseok wipes her mouth with a wet wipe and in the blink of an eye, the three hybrid children, two dogs and a bunny rush over to Imani and ask if she would like to play with them.

“Go on, we will be right here if you need us,” Seokjin encourages with a smile and Imani looks at Jungkook with a pout on her lips.

“Kookie play wit me?”

“Imani-” Yoongi starts and Jungkook quickly cuts him off with a hard swallow of his kimbap.

“Come on! Let’s go!” Jungkook jumps to his feet and the kids all shout in joy as he runs off to the playground with them.

Yoongi sighs and Jimin grabs his hand, lacing their fingers together. “She should be playing without us,” Yoongi groans and Namjoon shrugs.

“It could be another trigger…she was abandoned by her godfather. Even if we say we will be right here, she might not trust it.” Namjoon explains his theory and everyone frowns.

“Do you think the police would tell us if they ever find that asshole?” Hoseok looks at his mates and before anyone can answer, the two other hybrid families come over and introduce themselves.

The two dogs are german shepherds and the bunny is a cashmere lop. The parents are nice enough, smiling as they ask about Imani and exchanging phone numbers with Seokjin, Hoseok and Jimin to set up playdates later on down the line. Yoongi keeps his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and picks at the meat on his plate as he listens out for Imani’s voice. Jungkook’s laughter is loud as children scream and run around as he chases them.

Imani and the bunny hybrid, Rina are hiding under the playset, behind the tic-tac-toe squares and Yoongi finds himself smiling. Looks like Imani has made her first friend. Jungkook is sneaking up on them from behind and before he can pounce, Imani grabs Rina’s hand and pulls her from underneath the playset. They run as fast as their little legs can go and climb up the steps of the playset.

Jungkook is laughing, face flushed from running after four young hybrids. The parents and Min pack all watch with fond smiles on their faces as the children’s laughter rings in the air. Soon, Jungkook comes over to the table and plops down, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Hoseok crackles and smooths Jungkook’s sweaty hair from his forehead, “What’s wrong Koo? Can’t handle em?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes at Hoseok and huffs as he throws himself into Jimin’s lap. “Y-You try catching them. It’s impossible!” Jungkook closes his eyes as he inhales and Jimin runs his fingers through his damp hair. “They’re too freaking short and fast.”

Seokjin’s squeaky laughter is the response that Jungkook gets and soon all the adults are laughing.

“Shhh! You’ll wake her up.” Seokjin whispers as Jungkook and Jimin creep into the room, the door creaking a little. Seokjin is standing over Imani’s still dressed in his clothing from earlier while Jungkook and Jimin are freshly showered and in new clothing that doesn’t smell like outside and sweat.

“What are you doing Hyung?” Jimin questions as he stands by Seokjin’s side.

“I…” Seokjin shakes his head and blinks as he feels his eyes start to burn with tears. “I can’t believe that she is mine…ours. I just-”

“Ah, Seokjinie Hyung,” Jungkook wraps his arms around Seokjin’s waist and rests his chin on his shoulder. “Are you ever gonna stop crying?” Jungkook’s voice is teasing but he hugs Seokjin tightly.

Seokjin sniffles as his tears start to fall and Jimin leans into him, wrapping his arms around Seokjin’s. “Hyung…you really love her, huh?”

Seokjin nods his head quickly, “With all my heart.” Seokjin sniffles again and wipes his nose with the sleeve of his sweat. “God, she’s so perfect.”

Jungkook and Jimin share a look and snuggle into Seokjin as they squeeze him tighter. They stand there in silence, watching Imani as she naps and just breathing in the sweet sunflowers that seeps from her pores. Jimin sighs and wipes at his face, his own eyes now weepy while Jungkook smiles with wide wet eyes.

Seokjin clears his throat and pulls away from the two younger men, “Come, we should let her sleep in peace.”

Jimin follows Seokjin out of the room and Jungkook hesitates by the door. He looks back at Imani and grins.

“Best day ever,” he whispers and leaves the room with the door cracked a little.

Out on the nesting floor, everyone is sitting at the table in the kitchenette with glasses in their hands. Namjoon hands the last one to Jungkook as he joins and Yoongi clears his throat.

“I just want to say that I never thought today would ever happen. I know that adoption is something we all talked about but I was never…I guess I was scared?” Yoongi admits and everyone nods in agreement. “I wasn’t sure if I would be a good father or alpha but I know now that it was a stupid thing to worry about. With you all by my side, this new journey has been something I never imagined. Imani was meant to be here, so thank you.” Yoongi licks his lips and smiles.

“Thank you, Min and Tae for being yourselves and standing up to what is wrong.” Taehyung and Jimin beam as they hold up their glasses. “Thank you Hyung for imprinting so easily.” Everyone chuckles at Seokjin’s red tipped ears. “Thank you Joon for speaking on all our behalf.” Namjoon nods his head in acceptance.

“Thank you Hobah for spending extra time relearning your hairstyling skills.” Hoseok grins. “And thank you Jungkookie for being that safe place. I don’t know how you did it, but you more than anyone made Imani bloom.” Jungkook’s nose scrunches up at Yoongi’s words and his face heats up.

“Thank you all for completing our family.” Yoongi raises his glass and they all cheer before tossing the drinks back easily in one go.

#bts fluff #bts parent au #bts hybrid au #bts x oc #poly!bts #bts angst #bts a/b/o #seokjin fic #yoongi fic #namjoon fic #hoseok fic #jimin fic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #soc bts #totw ch 7 #divider by saradika

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97luvs · 1 year

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its giving older bad college boyfriend.

#bad meaning like the guy your parents warn you not to date #but then you date him anyways #i want to cuddle #i want to take his hoodie #i want him so bad #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bangtan #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook photo folio #jungkook nose #jungkook smut #jungkook icons #bts

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jungk0oksthighs · 2 years

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Stay With Me | Nostalgia

exhusband!jungkook, singledad!jungkook, E2L, angst, fluff, smut

Word Count - 5k

Day one of your weekend trip to the carnival. Warnings: swearing, mentions of pregnancy / childbirth, divorce, heavy angst

MINISERIES COLLECTION

“So how do you wanna do this?” Jungkook cocks his head to one side when he walks back over to you, as though he’s deep in thought himself, trying to figure out the best outcome for this scenario, “They’ve given us two deluxe rooms so they’re big enough for our group.”

Seol and his five, yes five friends are chatting amongst themselves in the hotel lobby already excited about the beach carnival that’s on this weekend. It’s Friday, you’ve been sat in the passenger side of your ex-husband’s Mercedes for almost two hours because he accidentally took the wrong exit on the freeway on the way here. Twice. You’re agitatedly tired, trying to drown out the sound of your son’s impersonation of some Marvel character you don’t recognise amongst his friends’ laughter. And to deepen your frustration, the booking of three hotel rooms has mistakenly gone down to two. System error on their end apparently, yet you’re the one suffering.

“Well… Logically we should take a room each and split the boys evenly.” You nod, but the idea of sharing a hotel room with children you didn’t physically birth and not your son leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Initially the plan was three rooms. One for you, one for Jungkook, and one for the kids – with family suite doors connecting both Seol’s parent’s rooms to his so you could check on the group of boys freely. But now there’s only two connecting hotel rooms. At least you’re comfortable, that’s just about your only silver lining right now – wearing a simple beige loungewear set and sneakers, accidentally matching with your ex who’s dressed identically to you but all in black.

“Isn’t that weird though? That would mean one of us sharing a room with his friends?”

You sigh, the faintest sarcastic smile tugging your lips, “No weirder than sharing a room with your ex-wife would be.” You snort, “Besides they’re deluxe rooms right? The kids can have the bed and we can sleep on the sofas well out of their way.”

To your surprise Jungkook frowns, shaking his head as he toys with both key cards he’s just collected, “Or we could share a room—, wait, wait hear me out first!” He rolls his eyes when you open your mouth to argue with him, “And I’ll have the sofa, you can take the bed. We can take shifts checking on them.”

“I still think it makes more sense to take a room each and split them.” You watch the way Jungkook’s lip gets tucked between his teeth nervously.

He shakes his head with furrowed brows, looking to be lost in thought, “No… I can’t do that. Wouldn’t it be nice to give Seol a little bit of freedom with his friends? He’ll be safe he’ll be right next door to us.”

“Why? Surely sharing with them is less awkward than sharing a room with me.” Glancing past his broad shoulder you see Seol and his friends looking in your direction, presumably concerned and growing impatient that you haven’t ushered them up to their room so they can change and unpack.

“It’ll be fine … You don’t snore, you don’t really move a muscle when you’re asleep since you sleep like a fucking corpse,” He ignores the way your brows hike up in offence, though he’s not exactly wrong, “So it’ll be like I’m on my own! This way neither of us have to listen to them telling scary stories or laughing at TikToks at stupid o’clock. Besides, I uh-, I really can’t share a room with them. I didn’t uh- pack for that.”

“…You didn’t bring any pyjamas did you?”

Your ex-husband cracks a guilty grin, stifling laughter when inked fingers rub his jaw, “In my defence I thought I was going to be alone in a hotel room, pyjamas weren’t necessary!”

“Oh you’re something else…” You kick your head back with a scowl, forcefully shoving his chest away, not that he moves back any, “Why wouldn’t you pack pyjamas? Pyjamas are always necessary, that’s why I brought an extra pair just in case. You can borrow them if you—”

“Good to know you still can’t control yourself from over-packing, but have you seen the size of me? Look at your biceps compared to mine! No offence Y/N but none of your clothes would fit me.” His gaze darkens once he’s finished flexing his giant muscles, flickering with something indescribable as his eyes drag themselves up and down your body, until they finally fall back to your face, “And I know what kind of pyjamas you wear… Even if by some miracle they did fit, I’m not parading round in something silk or see-through.”

“Hey there is nothing wrong with my pyjamas, at least I wear them unlike some people.” You scoff, pushing him again. He’s smiling down at you. Any outsider would think you’re a couple of lovers flirting, when in reality you’re arguing about pyjamas, or lack of, with your none other than your ex-husband.

His hooded eyes are wide and round, doe-like when he defends himself, “I sleep better in my underwear. And I didn’t say there was anything wrong with how you dress for bed—”

“Besides!” You cut him off with another playful shove, only this time he grips your wrist to stop you from doing it again but you shake him off, “If it wasn’t for me over-packing that time we went to Dubai you would’ve had to go commando for the rest of the trip Mr ‘five pairs of boxers will last me two weeks’, you’re insufferable sometimes did you know—”

“Mom?” Seol jogs over with hopeful eyes and an uncertain voice, dragging his blue Captain America suitcase behind him, “I need to pee, can we go to the room yet?”

Jungkook sighs, big body deflating, wrapping a strong heavily tattooed arm round his son’s shoulders, “We’re still figuring it out, they gave us the wrong rooms.”

“Oh… Do we have to go home?”

“No! Don’t worry that’s not what I meant,” Kook ruffles Seol’s hair and you ignore the way your heart swells at seeing them together like this, usually when they’re together you’re not around to see it anymore, “They gave us two rooms instead of three, so your mom and I are just working out how to split everybody.”

Seol nods slowly, as though he understands the situation but judging from his response he doesn’t quite grasp the weight of it, “Why don’t adults stay in one and kids in the other? If the rooms are connected we’ll be safe in our own room wont we? And that way we can talk about secret stuff without you two hearing.”

“Secret stuff?” You chuckle, running a hand through your hair, “What secret stuff?”

You don’t miss the way blood rushes to your twelve year old’s cheeks, “…Yeah like… Girls and stuff.”

The shit-eating grin on Jungkook’s face when he looks at you is something that will be forever burned into your memory, “That’s my boy. Have you got a girlfriend?!”

“Daaaad.” Seol groans in despair, “Can we go up now?”

“Okay fine, but we’re gonna talk about this later man to man, alright? You aren’t getting out of it. But I’ll give you a free pass this time just cause mom and your friends are here.”

You grimace, uncertain of what to do next. This isn’t in any of the articles you’ve read about parenting. Thank god Kook’s going to deal with it because truthfully you didn’t think Seoul had any interest in anything other than superheroes and cars. If only it could stay like that forever… He is almost thirteen… It was bound to happen eventually but you’re still not prepared for it. Your ex-husband senses the shift in atmosphere, clearing his throat before lightly gripping your shoulder, forcing you from your train of thought.

“So adults in one room and kids in the other, is that okay with you? I can go buy what I…forgot if you really don’t want to share with me. I understand.”

“Please mom can you share with him? Dad snores I don’t want him to embarrass me in front of my friends…” He whines, tugging your heartstrings a little harder than he knows. You can’t help but laugh at the way Jungkook jokingly pushes his own flesh and blood away from him after being accused of snoring. Which he does. Very loudly if you remember correctly.

“What about me why can’t you share with me? I don’t snore.”

Seol swallows, glancing over at his group of friends, “No, but they…we can’t share with you. They all think—”

“Ah, say no more kid.” Kook is quick to intercept, pushing a finger over your son’s lips. “Okay, here’s your key card we’ll be up in five minutes, do not leave the room and wait for us to get up there. Understood?”

“Understood.” He nods, tearing the card from his father’s grip before he and his friends run off to the stairwell.

“Am I missing something? Am I embarrassing to him?” You point to yourself, confused. You and Seol have a great relationship, when he’s not acting up anyway. He has no reason to be ashamed of you since he’s been strangely well behaved recently.

Jungkook chuckles at your naivety, picking up both yours and his bags with one hand before you both head for the elevator, “He’s not embarrassed of you he just doesn’t want his friends staring at you all weekend. After all you are the hottest mom from his school, can’t say I’d blame them.”

“…That’s disgusting, and simply not true.” You scoff, pushing the button since his hands are full. Maybe sharing a room with Seol’s father is the better choice after all. As long as he buys pyjamas.

“It is.” He nods, smirk plastered on his sharp features.

“It is disgusting or it is true?”

A puff of air escapes his nostrils when the elevator doors open and he looks at you with a mischievous smirk. “Both.”

Ignoring the rush of heat to your face you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile, “By the way you still have to get some pyjamas if you want to share with me, oh and you’re staying on the sofa. Obviously.”

“Of course.” He nods once, punching the number for the floor you need.

To put it simply - the carnival is amazing. Every single performer you’ve seen be it fire-breathers, stilt walkers or entertainment singers have been incredible. The game stations that are scattered across the length of the pier is where you’ve spent most of your time though, keeping an eye on the young boys you’re responsible for this weekend all while trying not to be the overbearing mom who can’t leave them alone. The sun is setting, you’re nursing a plastic cup of beer that Jungkook begrudgingly paid way more than retail price for, things are going well.

Seol is playing ring toss with his friends, you can see him from where you’re standing so you’re not worried. You’re leaning against the white railings that overlook the sand, welcoming what’s left of the sun on your exposed skin. As soon as you were checked into your room after it was decided you and Jungkook will share for the weekend; you got showered and changed into a white bardot style shirt; off the shoulder, loosely fitted, albeit very flattering tucked into a pair of denim shorts paired with sandals. The day has flown by, Jungkook ran off somewhere about fifty minutes ago and you haven’t seen him since. Hopefully he’s gone to buy something to wear for bed tonight.

You’d be lying if you said the idea of sharing a hotel room with Jungkook didn’t make you nervous, despite the fact you’ve seen it all before. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him barely dressed, an even longer time since you’ve been in the same space overnight. Everything is going to be fine, you convince yourself. Even if Jungkook is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever known exes are exes for a reason. Plus, you’re dating somebody now. Maybe dating is the wrong word but you’ve been on two dates with a guy from work, Hoseok. He’s super handsome and sweet and funny and listens to what you have to say and Jungkook is shirtless on the beach.

Your eyes widen, Jungkook is shirtless on the beach. He’s waving at you in the distance with his signature bunny-like grin, t shirt draped over one of his shoulders, damp hair clings to his forehead and sweat drips down his obnoxiously perfect photoshopped looking body. Why is your mouth watering? You sheepishly wave back, peeling your gaze away from him before you get carried away in your own head.

Sometimes you miss being married, sometimes you’re glad to be single. Right now you don’t know what’s worse, what you do know is that you don’t have the time to deal with your sexual frustration and intrusive thoughts about your ex-husband right now. And so you head over to Seol and his friends with a smile.

“Did anybody win anything yet?”

“Not yet Mrs Jeon… Seol almost won a Nintendo Switch though!” One of his friends shakes his head, disappointment blanketing his plump features. You don’t have the heart to correct him on your name and suddenly there’s a warm hand gripping your bare arm, turning you round.

“Hey, sorry… I went for a run on the beach, needed to blow off some steam.” Kook sounds just as out of breath as he looks, gaze flickering over to the group of young boys, “Everyone okay?”

Seol nods, clearly embarrassed that his parents have joined him, “We’re fine… We want to go back to the room soon and watch a live stream is that okay?”

“Of course that’s okay.” You chuckle, slightly relieved. The sky is getting darker as your eyelids grow heavier, it’s been a long day. “I’ll go back with you, I’m pretty tired already...” You chuckle mostly to yourself.

“Same here.” Jungkook admits, but you don’t trust yourself to look in his direction again since he’s not wearing a shirt, “Shall we get some snacks from the stalls before we head back?”

Your son’s eyes light up brighter than the stars, “Yessss!”

“Actually I was talking to your mom but I guess we can get some for you guys too.”

Some was an understatement. After emptying his father’s wallet Seol and his friends have a huge bag of snacks each, along with you and Jungkook who are carrying your own sweet treats through the hotel corridor.

“Alright if anybody knocks at this door you come through to our room first to let us know, okay?” While you agree with your ex-husband you can’t help but frown, he’s never usually the one to be this assertive with your son, normally leaving it to you. “Mom and I are gonna come in and check on you guys every so often, I want you all in bed by midnight at the latest. Okay?”

“Dad I’m nearly thirteen…” Seol rolls his eyes before realising Jungkook isn’t kidding, he stiffens outside the boy’s hotel room, “Okay, that’s fine. We can watch videos in bed though right?”

“As long as they’re not too loud son.”

There it is again, the simultaneously unfamiliar and familiar tightening of your chest when you speak, “Goodnight boys, we’re only next door and we’ll leave the door unlocked if anyone needs us just come in. Okay? We’re trusting you not to sneak out, if you do I’ll be straight on the phone to your parents.”

You’re greeted with a series of nods and ‘okay’, ‘yeah that’s fine’ and ‘goodnight Mrs Jeon’ from the group of boys before you push yourself inside your own room. Immediately kicking your shoes off with a small groan, your body is aching and frankly you can’t wait to sleep tonight.

It’s just over an hour later when you’re bare-faced beneath the sheets in your pink silk pyjamas. Staying true to his word Jungkook is at the far end of the room on the sofa, still dressed in the shorts he wore on the beach with no shirt, mindlessly scrolling his phone. It’s not as awkward as you expected it to be, but perhaps that’s because you haven’t spoken to him since you got in. Maternal instincts take over and you find yourself texting Seol:

Y/N: Everyone okay?

Seol: Yeah we’re good thanks for the snacks. Are things okay with you and dad?

An amused puff of air leaves your nose, this kid. It’s no secret that he desperately wants his parents to get back together, as most children of divorce his age do. He’s always trying to get you and his father alone together. Deep down he knows it’s not what you want and respects that, but he is twelve after all – and you can’t blame him for trying.

Y/N: All good in here, dad will come and check on you soon. Love you xxx

Seol: Love you too mom xxx

“Here, you left your snacks on the side…” Jungkook makes his way over to the bed in a few long strides, and you’re faced with the sight of his tight abdomen for the second time today. He places the bag of candy on the bed, bringing a muscular arm up to the back of his head where he fluffs his hair. “Are you sure this okay? I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable…”

“It’s fine. I’d feel better if you put a shirt on though, you’re like a walking Men’s Health cover.” You laugh, sitting up in bed to dive into the bag of treats. Your eyes roam his body for a split second, taking in what’s changed about it over the last two years, “I see you’ve got some more tattoos.”

Jungkook chuckles, perching himself on the foot of your bed, “Yeah… Got yours and Seol’s birth flower a few months ago,” He gestures to the beautiful gothic looking flower adorning his ribcage before panic blankets his sharp features, “For Seol obviously. I just meant it’s yours too… Cause you know your birthdays are in the same month.”

“I do know…” You hum with a grin, eyeing him closely, “Don’t think I’ll ever forget being heavily pregnant on my birthday the year he was born… Kinda ruined my day I won’t lie, I had such bad heartburn and all I wanted—”

“Was a glass of wine.” Kook finishes your sentence for you with a fond airy sounding giggle, recounting the memory clearly in his head. You were both convinced Seol would’ve been born before your birthday, giving he was due to arrive the week before. You were beyond excited to have a glass of wine to celebrate but as things turned out he was almost two weeks late. Meaning no birthday wine for you, and a very moody, very round wife for Jungkook to deal with that day. He cracks his knuckles as he speaks, “Seems like it was yesterday… You were such a pain in the ass that day.”

Fighting the urge to throw candy at him you shake your head, making a noise similar to a pained whine, “I’d like to see you try and enjoy your birthday while growing and carrying an overdue human on top of your bladder!”

“You know as much as I want to say you were just being dramatic, I saw him come out and… Fuck. That. Shit. You’re superwoman, for real you’ve genuinely been my hero ever since I saw what that boys head did to you.” He beams, exposing his perfectly straight white smile.

You grimace, feigning a gag, “I told you not to look down there, you should’ve listened to me.”

“It was kinda like watching my favourite bar burn down…” He nods in agreement, ignoring the way you’re hiding behind your hands in fits of embarrassed sighs and disapproving tsks, “But it was a beautiful moment. Plus everything down there went back to normal pretty quickly didn’t it. So it’s all good.”

“Thanks?” You snort, taking a piece of sour candy and bouncing it off his muscles, “Didn’t realise you were so invested in my vagina at the time.”

He finds the candy, tossing it up in the air before catching it between his teeth with a cocky brow wiggle, “Oh trust me I was very invested in your vagina.”

You’re trying your absolute best not to blush, “Good to know.”

“How’d your date go anyway?” He asks calmly, as though he wasn’t talking about your vagina less than ten seconds ago. His expression is unreadable, but his hooded eyes are trained to your face, watching you sigh with puffed cheeks.

“Umm…” You swallow, “Are you sure you really wanna know?”

He tongues his cheek, shifting in place to get comfortable on the bed, “So it went well then? … I’m sorry I don’t want to come across like I’m being a dick. You deserve to be happy that’s all, just wanna know if he’s a good guy.”

You’re nodding gently, “So do you,” You deflect, hand reassuringly reaching out to your ex-husband’s thigh, “When you feel ready enough to get back into dating that is.”

“Right…” His head lolls to the side, staring at you fondly, “I’ve been in two relationships in my life. One of which was my high school girlfriend and we both know how that ended. The other was you. My dating experience is pretty minimal considering my age, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“So what? You were good at dating. We had loads of fun times.”

“Yeah we did…” His inked hand finds yours, softly squeezing it when he smiles, “Nothing will beat our first official date though, after you found out Yoongi was cheating on you and I took you bowling like three days later. You remember that? I wasted no time once you were finally single.” He’s laughing, head shaking in disbelief at how dumb in love he was at the time.

“That was a great first date I’ll give you that.” You hum in approval, retreating your hand when the weight of his on top of it does something funny to your chest. “Even though you did nothing but complain that I beat you and stare at my chest the whole night.”

“Ahh… I was looking for your heart I swear.” His nose scrunches when he squeezes his eyes shut, embarrassed that he’s still attempting to denying after all these years. “And you didn’t seem to mind! You married me didn’t you?”

There’s a shift in aura, a nostalgic, fringing on romantic one, “…Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Y/N…” Jungkook breathes heavily, crawling up the bed until his head is nestling on the bend of his elbow next to your knee, “This is really nice. I’m happy we can do this without it being awkward.”

You shrug nonchalantly, praying to every higher power that he can’t hear your racing heart from where he’s laid, “There’s no reason for us to be awkward around each other… We’ll always be in each other’s lives for Seol, and it’s not like either of us cheated or did something completely unforgiveable you know?”

Jungkook pauses, his own heart pounding inside his chest when he peers up at you through dark eyelashes, “Completely unforgiveable…” He repeats with the tiniest threat of understanding, “Are you saying there’s a chance, no matter how small, that someday you would reconsider—”

“Kook...” Your voice is shaky, your breath is shaky, your body is shaking with nerves, not this again, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.” The words come out in merely a whisper, butterflies swarm your inside when his fingertips find your knee.

“Lie down with me.” He’s so quiet you barely hear him, the air between you thick with memories of the past. Friendship, love, fun, Seol, heartbreak. “Please… I don’t-, I don’t know when I’m gonna get the chance to say this again.”

Hesitantly you slip further beneath the sheets, until your faces are inches apart. His breath is warm on your cheek, his eyes swimming with something you can’t pinpoint. Desperation maybe, or sorrow. There’s a lump in your throat that refuses to go down, a tingle in your bones you haven’t felt in years, akin to a confusing cocktail of equal parts sadness and hope. You’ve missed this, you’ve missed him.

Jungkook wets his lips when he stares at you, but he doesn’t move closer, he doesn’t touch you, he doesn’t cross any lines or make you uncomfortable. He just lays there, drinking in the features on your face with a pained sigh.

“I am so sorry that I wasn’t there for you how I should’ve been… I should’ve done more, I should’ve said more. I should’ve been more for you. And I’m so fucking sorry that I wasn’t.”

“…Jungkook—”

“You deserve the world Y/N. You gave me everything, and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t give it back to you when I had the chance.”

It’s like the earth stands still, the only sound in the room is your own heartbeat pulsing your eardrums. You’re speechless, awestricken even. Not once did he stutter. Not once did he look away. He’s apologised countless times for the deterioration of your marriage, sometimes in person, sometimes via drunken texts or phone calls. But something about the way he’s laying beside you now, doe-eyes zoned in waiting for your reaction… This apology is different.

“Kook… You don’t need to apolo—”

“No I do.” He’s barely nodding, thick brows pinched slightly, “I really do. Because if I made you feel anything like I felt the day I signed those divorce papers… I need you to know that was never my intention. I never wanted to hurt you.” He cups your face with one hand, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb, his face even closer to yours now, “I really am so sorry that I did. And I hope you find someone who can be the man I couldn’t be, because you deserve that. I just want you to be happy.”

Dazed from nostalgia and adoration you find yourself leaning forward, mirroring his movements and resting a hand on his face. Your fingertips toy with the silver hoop earring he wears but your eyes never leave his. You lay there in silence, barely holding each other, just staring, remembering. Jungkook closes the distance between you, until his nose ghosts yours, your pounding hearts almost reconnect for a brief, albeit beautiful moment.

“I still-, I mean I should probably go check on the boys…”

You don’t say anything in return, only nodding in agreement. Reality comes crashing down on you harder than a tonne of bricks. What the fuck are you doing? This is Jungkook – your ex-husband, Seol’s father. The man you divorced. The bed turns cold when he leaves the room, and it feels as though he’s taken a piece of your heart with him. You can’t do this, not again. You know all too-well how this will go, and that’s what leads you to pretend to be asleep when he returns five minutes later.

Jungkook watches your sleeping frame from the foot of the bed, regret and despair coursing his veins.

He should’ve told you he still loves you. He should’ve kissed you. He should’ve never let you go.

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